


I am Emmanuel

by Listae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emmanuel/Emma (non-explicit), F/M, Language, M/M, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, canon compliant ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:58:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 86,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listae/pseuds/Listae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the souls, Castiel got lost in his new life of a human. What kind of life could it have been? What kind of man was he and what kind of people surrounded him?<br/>Who was he then and did he have a place for Dean in his new found life? Slash, Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who I Am

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I had this idea to explore what could've happened to Cas in the time after souls when he was living as a human. Oh, the countless possibilities! :)
> 
> This is my take of who he was and what happened to him.
> 
> General WARNINGS (for the fic, not the chapter): language, M/M sexuality, explicit descriptions. 
> 
> Definitely Explicit rating for later chapters, just so you know.
> 
> It starts slow, but it'll get there, I promise
> 
> Sadly, I don't own SPN...
> 
> I got the cover art for this story done by absolutely amazing Mistofstars, who's been a great inspiration when I got stuck along the way! Thank you, hun, you're awesome!

Monday

I lie in my bed at night and think about how I came to being, think about whom I am.

It was cold. That is the first thing I remember – thinking about being cold. I was lying on the sand, soaking wet and naked, and I shivered uncontrollably. The chill was bone deep, so deep in fact that I thought it couldn’t have been caused by the breeze of late spring’s night. My body shook in the futile attempt to warm itself and all I could concentrate on was the feeling of my bones freezing under my skin. It was that cold.

I couldn’t do anything about it really. I lied there, shaking and hoping it would end one way or the other. I knew I must do something or I’d freeze to death, but dying seemed the easier option, so I just lied there. Even now, six months after all this happened, it’s hard to remember those first minutes of my new existence.

Then John came. I didn’t realize it at first; I didn’t understand what was happening. He put his coat around me and he got me to a hospital. Severe hypothermia was what they called it. It probably was, I haven’t had hypothermia since and I don’t remember having it before, but the freezing of my bones felt almost… inhuman. I know it’s foolish to think this way, but I do nevertheless.

Next week passed in a blur. Apart from hypothermia, I was also poisoned. I remember doctors trying to do all they could, but I kept vomiting vile black substance every couple of hours. Nobody knew what was wrong with me, that much was clear. They spoke in hushed voices, but it didn’t take a mind reader to notice they had no idea what was wrong with me and if I would get better or not. And just like that a week later the vomiting stopped and I felt better.

John came to visit me every day and although he didn’t even know me, I saw his relief when I finally could keep some of the food down. Of course, that’s when the questions started. They all asked me what happened to me, what I remembered, who I was… And all I could remember was being cold. How many people could tell they remember how they came to exist? I think about it sometimes. I mean, of course I had to have had a life before I woke up on the shore of that lake, but what kind of life could it have been if it ended with me stranded naked on the shore, remembering nothing at all? What kind of life could I have been leading if nobody was even looking for me? John told me the police checked all the missing people reports and I was not in them… So I choose to think I was born 6 months ago, even though sometimes, at night I lie awake and I can almost physically feel the absence of something. Or someone.

I am lucky really. John took to me as the father, he offered me to stay with him, until I was on my feet again. John is a middle aged catholic priest in this town and he lives in a small cabin close to the church. He gave me the spare room and helped me find the job. I stayed with him for 3 months until I left to rent my own place. I still come to have dinner with him every Sunday. I love John and I admire his faith. I suppose I should also have faith – God gave me a second chance and made it really easy. He gave me John, who was and still is my guardian angel of sorts. And yet I don’t have faith. I believe there’s God, but I can’t bring myself to have faith in him, to take him into my heart. John has been very understanding, but I see it pains him I don’t share his faith.

I work at the hardware store now. I like it there. It was a bit hard at first, I’m desperately socially awkward, but now I know everyone in town and I generally like almost everyone, so it’s really ok. I get to meet new people as well, but not so much. It’s a quiet town, we don’t get many outsiders here. Well, apart from me, that is.

I also like carpentry. My boss, Mark, is a carpenter and he’s taken to teach me. He says I’m good with my hands and I love the feeling of making, building something. The roughness of wood to be molded into something new and beautiful fascinates me. I sometimes wonder what I did in my past life. I don’t seem to have any skills at all. I learn quickly, but when I try new things they feel new. My doctor says my amnesia is so severe that even my skills might be lost, but I don’t know… I mean I haven’t lost all skills – I can talk and write but I don’t seem to have any skills that could indicate what I used to do. It doesn’t really matter that much anyway, at least I learn fast. I also like working in the garden. John has a small garden next to his cabin and I worked in it all through the summer. Seeing things grow also fascinates me.

So who am I? John suggested Emmanuel and it sounded alright. So I suppose that’s who I am – I’m Emmanuel, the man who works at the local store, has couple of friends, likes building things and has no past. Even in my own mind it sounds… foolish. But then again, I don’t want to think of the man I used to be. I know nothing of that man and I don’t want to know. I like my life now.

And yet…

And yet there’s a hollow in my chest that throbs painfully as if I’m missing something. There’s a void in me and I don’t know what could possibly fill it. I miss something and that feeling is so overwhelming that some nights, like tonight, all I can do is lie in my bed and hope for sleep that I know won’t come. What is it I miss so much I can almost feel the pain of it even though I don’t even know what that is? Really, what the hell is it?

/\/\/\

Tuesday

“Morning Emma!” I greet my first customer. Emma is the daughter of the local car shop owner and she’s in the hardware store every few days. I like Emma, she is always kind to me.

“Morning Em.” She smiles at me. She always calls me Em, she says my name is the mouthful. I agree, it is a mouthful, but I like it. “My old man sends me for that drill he ordered. The number 8.”

“Yes, I have it here for you. Do you need anything else?”

“How ‘bout that coffee?” She asks me blushing slightly. I’ve been promising to take her out for coffee for weeks now, but never got around to do that. Mark's health been declining lately so I’m usually at the shop from open to close, Monday to Saturday. I have Sundays off, but I go to John and also do my things on Sunday, like shopping and cleaning and all those things. I don’t mind working that much, there’s not much that occupies my free time anyway.

“Well, Mark promised to let me out next Saturday. How about then?”

“Saturday’s good.” She nods. “But I will really speak to Mark one of these days – he overworks you!”

“No, it’s all good.” I tell her. We had this conversation before. I think Emma likes me and she really cares about me. I like her too, but I don’t think I like her the way she likes me. She is very pretty, probably even beautiful. She’s almost as tall as I am and she’s very slender. She’s got big brown eyes and full lips that sometimes distract me. She moves with gracefulness and ease of the dancer, although she’s never been one. I think she would’ve been great at dancing. But she’s a small town girl. She’s also a daughter of the man who always wanted to have a son and so as a kid she learned karate and how to fix cars, not dancing. “How about I pick you up at seven on Saturday?”

“That sounds great Em.” Her smile is warm and the look in her eyes is inviting. I really like her, but… The hollow in my chest throbs painfully and not for the first time I wonder if I might have the family somewhere. I probably don’t, because surely they would be looking for me, right? But then what do I long for? Or is it – whom do I miss? I shake my head slightly and notice Emma looking at me sympathetically. “I did it again?”

“Yeah, you’re weird that way.” She grins “It’s as if you switch out, you know?”

“I know… You’d think that for someone with only six months worth of memories it would be hard to get lost in his own head!” I laugh and she joins me politely, although there’s nothing particularly funny about the way I sometimes doze off. I take the package I had set aside for her and give it to Emma. I’m glad there’s a counter between us, because apparently sometimes I invade people’s personal space. Not so much anymore, because I measure it by the width of the counter even when I’m not behind it anymore. It took me some time to get used to it, because I personally don’t have an issue with people standing too close to me. John was patient enough to explain that people take it as an insult or they are simply uncomfortable when I’m too close. It’s ok, people are weird that way. Or maybe I am. “I put the bolts I didn’t have last time in here as well.”

“Thanks! You always remember.”

“I have a lot of free space on my hard drive.” I tell her seriously and we both laugh again. You either laugh at this or you weep. I choose to laugh, at least when I’m conscious. I think I cry in my dreams, because sometimes I wake up and my eyes are sore and puffy. I never remember my dreams, even though sometimes I wake up from the sound of my own scream.

“I’ll see you soon, Em. Take care.”

“You too.”

/\/\/\

Wednesday

Today the entire town is shaken. It’s a small town I live in. It only has around two thousand people in it and everyone knows each other, so no wonder that when one of their… one of our midst is killed with such brutality, everyone is shaken. His name was Dennis Burke. He’s married and has three kids from four to sixteen. He was a good man and I regret his death deeply. I feel for his family so much it frightens me. It also frightens me that something stirs in my head when I first hear about it. Not a memory precisely, but some sort of… déjà vu.

John called me this morning to tell me what happened. He said Dennis went to a local bar that for some reason unknown to me is referred to as “Hunter’s” after work. He had just been promoted and he wanted to celebrate before heading home with the good news. He met up with his friends and they had couple of drinks. Nothing excessive, Dennis just wasn’t that kind of guy. He left at around ten and never came back home. His poor wife called Sheriff Turner after midnight, begging him to look for her man. It’s a small town and everybody cares, so Sheriff actually did go out to look for Dennis. He found him a mile from home, by the road, still in his car. To be exact, what remained of him was still in his car and that wasn’t that much… His insides were ripped out of him, but Sheriff didn’t find them. He didn’t find his right arm that was torn away from the shoulder. He didn’t find the big part of his right thigh nor his penis for that matter. It looked a lot like an animal attack, but for the fact that the bite marks on his body were… strangely human like. Of course Sheriff will have to confirm that with the doctor, but he’s fairly certain Dennis was attacked, ripped apart and chewed on by the human. So no wonder the town is shaken.

Today all the customers speak about Dennis. The horror of his death and the pity everyone feels for the family is overwhelming. I wish there was something I could do to help Nora, Dennis’ wife. I wish I could ease her pain, but I don’t have it in me to even look at her, so I decide not to go to the memorial service. I didn’t know them well – just the usual hello and good bye stuff, nothing more, but I don’t want to face her pain. John will have to do it and I don’t envy him. Not today though. Today the coroner is examining the remains of what used to be Dennis Burke – the husband, father, son and simply a good man.

/\/\/\

Thursday

It’s in the papers. It always is in the papers, when things like that happen. Now everyone knows and for some unknown reason I tense at the thought that this is getting out of the confines of the town. The outsiders, the others will know and somehow it makes me uneasy. It’s foolish, I know, but there’s a part of me that wants to keep this peaceful little town hidden from the outside. I am happy here, I feel safe here and I don’t want the world to close in on this town. What a strange thing to think of. The world is always there, but to me it feels like this little town is a shelter in the storm. I don’t know what kind of storm is raging there, but it pains me to think it might shatter my shelter. And it frightens me to think it might have already arrived.

/\/\/\

Friday

I don’t want to believe this. I want to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. It isn’t of course. Sheriff Turner found another body and this time it’s someone I know. Brian Talbot is one of the few friends I made since my arrival. Brian is the one who taught me to play pool and open the foreign beer bottle on the table. Brian sat with me through Lord of the Rings marathon because I couldn’t stand not understanding the references my other friend Tom was making. Brian was teaching me to drive, because I want to pass my driving test so I can finally have my own car. I liked Brian very much. Hell, I loved him really, he was a good friend. It hurts to think of what happened to him, how much he had suffered. How can I have faith when these things happen? How can anyone?

I’ll go to Brian’s mother’s house later today, because I know her and I want to be there for her. I could avoid Nora, but I can’t avoid old Mrs. Talbot. Brian’s father has been dead for a long time, but his mother isn’t. I can’t even imagine the pain she’s in. Tom will come for me at work and drive us to Mrs. Talbot’s and we will both do all we can to comfort her, although really – what can we do? I feel so sorry for Brian I wish I could cry, but my eyes are dry and no tears ever come. I wish there was something I could do.

Tom picks me up and we go to Mrs. Talbot. We don’t speak much on our way. There’s not much to say and neither of us is a talkative one. Brian used to bring conversations to us, Tom and I simply joined in. The lack of Brian, the loss of him never seemed stronger than in that car ride. I notice Tom’s eyes are red, I think he must’ve cried. Brian and Tom were friends from the childhood and even though he doesn’t say a word I know that losing Brian is like losing brother for him. I am so sorry for his loss.

It’s worse at Brian’s. He was the only son, so now old Mrs. Talbot is all alone. I can see the horror and the weight of it has not yet sunk in to her by the way her eyes dart around and by the way she looks at the door every couple of minutes, as if waiting for Brian to come back. I feel my throat constrict at that and I hear Tom murmur soothing things to her. It’s futile really, what can you say to a woman who just lost everything dear to her? He tries nevertheless and I like him even more for this.

“Tom, please…” She sobs. “How can this be? How can he be gone? Who could’ve done this to my boy?”

She’s crying, tears rolling down her wrinkled, aged and paler than ever cheeks. I can’t stand this anymore, I can’t see this pain, but I can’t leave. So I just step closer and I put my hand on her shoulder. I wish I could do something, anything to make it better for her, to ease her pain even a little bit… She snaps he had at me and stares me in the eye. Her eyes widened with shock and something I can’t really understand.

“What have you done, Emmanuel?” She asks silently. She’s not sobbing anymore.

I stare at her. Have I done something? I don’t think so. I tell her that. “I haven’t done anything, Mrs. Talbot.”

She still stares at me. “I feel… I feel better. What happened?” I can see she’s perplexed and now Tom is eyeing me curiously as well. I just shrug. I haven’t done anything. I wish I could have, but honestly, what could have I done?

“I haven’t done anything. I am so sorry for Brian, I really am…”

She nods, still looking at me perplexed. “Thank you.”

I know she’s not thanking me for my words, but I can’t keep her gaze anymore. I let go and step back and she’s wiping the remainder of her tears. She no longer cries and some part of me is just so glad that whatever happened helped her a little.

On our way to my home Tom is silent as usual. I don’t speak either, because what is there to say? We both lost someone who glued us together and I feel I’m losing my only remaining friend. I’m sad and it hurts, but I have no idea what should I do. I really am socially awkward.

“We’ll go for drinks Sunday night.” Tom says unexpectedly and I stare at him.

“We will?”

“Yes. ‘Hunter’s’.”

“Ok.” I mutter.

“What the hell did you do back there?” He asks me unexpectedly, but I just shake my head.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what that was.”

“Ok.” He nods and we’re silent again. “We’re going to get wasted on Sunday, so you better tell Mark you’ll be late Monday.”

“I don’t get wasted.” I tell him, although he knows. He and Brian had tried to get me drunk, but I just don’t get wasted. I guess my threshold is higher than theirs.

“You will on Sunday. It’s a send off for Brian and we’re gonna do it right. You with me?”

“Yes.” I understand this. It’s a good bye, a closure. John spoke to me about the need for closure and I understand it. “I’ll tell Mark I need a day off on Monday, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“He sure as hell should. He’s been keeping you up there the entire time.”

He pulls up at my place then. I look at him and I’m so grateful he tries to remain my friend, but I have no words to express this to him. So I just stare at him.

“We’re ok, Em.” He says. He knows me enough to understand what my silence means.

“Thank you, Tom.” I mumble. “Be safe, ok?”

“You too.”


	2. First Dates

Saturday

It’s always quiet at work on Saturday afternoons. There’s usually a bit of a rush in the morning, because people want to get things done on Saturdays and if they need supplies, they come in early. Afternoons are quiet, eerie even. But I like the afternoons, this is when I can work on my carpentry. Mark usually leaves something for me in the workshop in the back of the store and I spend my afternoons there. I’m actually cutting the ornament into the board that will become breadbox if I’m successful. I will be successful, I always am and this is not boasting, I think I just am a quick learner. It calms me, the carpentry. I’m thinking about my date with Emma a lot and I’m a bit anxious. I like Emma, but I’m not that good at making small talk, so I’m wary, but as I cut the ornament, it soothes me. The ornament I’m carving is somehow familiar. I don’t know what it is or if I’ve seen it before, but it gives me that strange feeling of déjà vu. I see this image in my head and I want to transfer it to the wood. It’s sun of sorts, I suppose, but there’s writing on it and a star inside. I feel I should understand what it is, but I don’t and it frustrates me. I hope that when I’m finished I'll make sense of it, maybe I will even be able to understand it. I’m so composed, engulfed in my work that the jingle of the bell above the door startles me. I shake my head and grin at my own reaction. Honestly, I’m working at this shop!

“Just a minute!” I yell and put the board aside. I brush off the wood chips from my hands and jeans and enter the store. I look around and see a man standing by the hammer shelf, his back to me. He’s tall and his hair cut short, almost a buzz cut. He wears jeans that look well worn, a jacket and heavy boots. I know he’s not local, I’ve never seen him, and yet the way he stands tugs at me. There’s familiarity I can’t quite place. I clear my throat and he turns to face me.

The time actually freezes then. I know it sounds foolish, but I don’t know how else to phrase it. I stare at him and notice things I don’t usually notice - how his eyes are brownish green, how his lips are full and pink and his bottom lip glistens as if he just licked at it, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he tries to swallow, how he’s got freckles scattered on his cheeks and most of all how he stares at me, those green eyes wide in surprise and shock and something I can’t place. I stare at him and the wave of déjà vu stronger than ever before washes through me. I don’t know him, it’s the first time I laid my eyes on him, but it’s as if I’ve known him my entire life. It’s stupid, the things I think of while staring at him, but at the same time I know it’s significant. I stare at him still and he stares at me. John has told me that if I notice I’ve been staring at someone that means I’ve been staring for way too long. He taught me to count to three whenever something catches my attention – this way I know when to drop my gaze. Apparently, I’m intense… I know I’ve been staring at this man for way too long, it’s long even for me, but he keeps staring just the same. Finally, finally I find my voice.

“Can I help you?” I croak and I’m surprised to hear the tone of my voice, low and almost husky. Something flickers in those eyes of his, but he still doesn’t drop his gaze. Funny thing is I’m not uncomfortable; I could look at them infinitely.

“Salt.” I hear him mumble. At least I think this is what he said, but I’m not sure, because it was barely there. If his lips hadn't moved, I’d think I imagined it. As it is, I stare at his lips now. It takes me a few moments to find my voice again.

“I’m sorry?” I finally manage and it sounds stupid to me. I can’t seem to find it in me to tear my gaze off him, but he doesn’t drop his either. He holds my eyes as he rumbles “I need rock salt.”

His voice is so low it’s almost growling. And just like that I think of earthquakes and mountains rising from the earth. What a foolish thing to think about. Finally, I tear my eyes off him and I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. I shake my head and try to clear it. It feels fuzzy, the head of mine, and I don’t understand that feeling. There’s something else different, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. When I’m not looking at him, my head clears a little and eventually I start thinking again.

“We don’t sell salt here.” I tell him, still not looking at him. “It’s a hardware store, you know.”

“Right.” He agrees. “Sorry man, don’t know what I was thinking.”

The sound of his voice does something to me, I feel… I think I like it.

“It’s ok.” I tell him, but I resolutely don’t look at him. “There’s Wal-Mart just around the corner, you’ll find salt there.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, but he doesn’t leave, he just stands there. Finally, I can’t stand it anymore and I raise my eyes to meet his. He’s looking at me, just the way he did before and this is when it hits me. The hollow throb in my chest I’ve been feeling for as long as I can remember is not there anymore! I stare at him, my eyes widening in shock, but as I do so, I feel whole. For the first time I feel complete. I know this should frighten me, but it just doesn’t. So I just look at those greenish eyes and let myself feel alright. Eventually I realize I have to say something. It’s getting ridiculous how we just stand silently, looking at each other. So I say the first thing that pops to my mind.

“Have we met before?”

I think I startled him with my question, because it’s now him who’s shaking his head trying to clear it. It’s him, who avoids my eyes.

“I don’t…” He starts, but never finishes. “Who are you?”

Despite being as socially inexperienced as I am, I know this is not normal interaction between people. I mean I see people talk to each other, meet strangers, hell, I’ve met the town-full of strangers in this shop alone, but never did I get in the situation like this. And still the funny thing is it’s not uncomfortable.

“I’m Emmanuel.”

He actually grins at that and I find myself thinking I like his smile.

“Emmanuel?” He repeats, still with the grin. “It’s a mouthful.”

I smile at that. John always tells me I should smile more, especially when I meet the strangers, because he says that it breaks the tension. So I smile and I see his eyes dart to my lips.

“My friends call me Em.” I tell him and for some reason that makes him laugh. And dear Lord do I like him laugh…

“Do you have a last name?” He asks suddenly and I can’t help thinking this is such a strange question to ask. I mean I don’t actually have last name, but everybody else does. So how could he know I don’t?

“Meyers.” I tell him evenly. It’s John’s name and he said I could use it. My papers are now in this name. Emmanuel Meyers. They are temporary papers of course, police is still investigating who I am, but it’s not likely they will ever find out. I mean it’s been six months – if there was something to find out about me, they would have done it already.

“Ok.” He nods. “Are you from around?”

I feel interrogated. It’s crazy of course, I suppose he’s just making a small talk after the whole staring thing, but I can’t help but think it’s questioning. It makes me much more uncomfortable than staring did.

“Yes.” I tell him. It’s not that I wanted to lie to him or anything, I just don’t want to go into details of my appearance in this town. Emmanuel Meyers is definitely local.

He tilts his head curiously. “Ok.” And we stare at each other again. His gaze is warm on my face and I like it. He looks at me as if trying to find something, but at the same time he just looks at me as if he knows me. It’s strange and it should be uncomfortable, but it’s not.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I ask finally, remembering I’m actually at work.

“Um… Yeah. Do you have a rubber hammer, by any chance? There’s a dent on my car and I want to straighten it.” He nods his head towards the window and I see his car. It’s big and black and old. I don’t know much about cars, but this looks… Again the déjà vu washes through me.

“I like your car.” I tell him plainly. It’s probably odd to say stuff like that, but I do like his car. He smiles at that.

“Yeah, you do! My baby’s golden!”

I laugh and come closer to the hammer stand to find him a rubber hammer. I shuffle around for couple of moments, deciding what would suit the best and finally find the one I think will do. I move closer to give him the hammer and suddenly realize I’m closer than the counter width. I take a step back and smile apologetically.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to invade.” I tell him and see him tilt his head curiously. “I sometimes do that.” I hand him the hammer. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

He takes the hammer and his fingers brush along mine and we stare at each other again. This staring is unnerving, but for some reason I like it. Same as I liked the feeling of his fingers brushing along my hand. It’s absurd, isn’t it?

Finally, he looks at the hammer and nods. “Yeah, it’ll do.”

I move back behind the counter and he pays for the hammer. I don’t know what else to say, so I just stay quiet as I make an effort not to stare anymore. He’s quiet for a while too, but then he sighs.

“I’ll see you around, I guess.” He mumbles and I look at him.

“Are you in town for long?” I ask him.

“Nah, just couple of days.” He replies and it makes me inexplicably sad. I nod and then I realize I don’t even know his name.

“You never told me your name.”

“No, I haven’t.” He agrees and falls silent again. I think he won’t and it’s a shame, because I’d like to know his name. He speaks again.

“It’s Dean. Dean Winchester.” He looks at me and I think he’s searching again. The name doesn’t sound familiar and yet somehow it does. I realize why it sounds familiar a moment later.

“Hello Dean.” I tell him with a smile, but my smile falters as I hear him suck in a ragged breath. It also falters because the way his name rolls off my own tongue is so breathtakingly familiar it startles me.

“Who are you, Emmanuel?” He asks suddenly and I frown at his question. “Never mind.” He mutters. “And thanks for the hammer.”

He strides off then and I’m standing like a fool watching him go. I want to call him, I want to stop him, but I don’t know how. I don’t have any excuses to make him stay and I’m not good at coming up with that kind of stuff, so I just stand and watch him go. As a bell jingles when the door closes behind him I sigh heavily. He’s gone and I’ve done nothing to stop him. I probably won’t ever see him again and it doesn’t just make me sad, it actually almost hurts. I realize this as the hollow in my chest starts throbbing again. Who was he? Why do I react to him the way I do? Does he know me? I think he must’ve known me before, but then surely he would’ve said so, right?

The peacefulness of Saturday afternoon is shattered and I feel anxious and on edge. I don’t want to go back to carving the board, because I know I’d mess it up, so I just stand behind the counter trying to calm down and knowing it’s not going to work. I feel shaken and I wish Brian was still alive, I wish I could talk to him. Tom’s great, but I never spoke to Tom about who I am or what I feel, it’s always been Brian I talked to. Not that I talked to him much, I’m a quiet sort of guy anyway. There’s John of course, but I can’t speak to him about this. John is like a father to me and even I know you don’t really speak to your father about something like that. I could probably talk to him about my unease at taking Emma for coffee, but I could never talk to him about the fact that some guy came into the store today and left me confused and startled. I mean, what on Earth has just happened? Who is he? And most importantly, why do I care?

After work I go home and take a shower. I feel calmer now and the whole incident at the store feels a lot like a dream now. Not that I know what the dream feels like, I never really remember my dreams. I dress up in grey slacks and white button down. It feels weird to dress up, because I very rarely do. I go to John’s church once a month or so, just to pay my respects to him – that was the only reason to dress up. Until now, that is.

The town I live in is small, so I don’t really need to drive to pick Emma up. It’s good, because I haven’t passed my test yet and I don’t have a car. The evening is warm though, so walking won’t be an issue. By the time I reach Emma’s house, it’s five past seven. I actually enjoyed the walk, it calmed me down further. At some point I thought I heard someone behind me, but I must’ve imagined it, because when I turned to look, there was no one there. I knock at the door and a minute later Emma opens. She’s smiling joyfully and I smile back.

“Come in.” She says and steps back to let me in. I’ve never been at Emma’s, so I walk in and look around. It’s a nice place, very orderly. It’s simple, small town home, but it’s cozy and there’s this feeling of family home you get every time you walk in to the house full of pictures and small details that scream ‘family’ at you. I like it. I wish my home would say ‘family’ some day, because right now all it says is ‘rented by unknown’. Brian used to say I’m a walking mystery and my home gives nothing on me as well.

“You look very nice.” I say glancing at Emma and she blushes slightly. I know you’re supposed to compliment your date, I’ve seen it on TV. She does look very nice anyway. She’s wearing a blue dress and it’s the first time I see her in anything but jeans and T-shirt.

“Thanks, Em. You look great too.” She smiles. “Give me just a minute and we can go, ok?”

“Sure.” I nod. “It’s a bit windy outside, so don’t forget a jacket.”

“Yeah, all good.” She’s back up stairs and I look around. Emma doesn’t have any brothers or sisters, but she does have an impressive assortment of cousins by the look of the pictures. In every one of them, Emma’s a tomboy – jeans and T-shirts and bruises form climbing trees or riding bikes. She’s happy in those pictures and I think she must’ve had happy childhood. I wonder what I was like as a kid. Probably a nerdy kind of kid, because both Tom and Brian tell me I have all the qualities of a geek. I do too, I relate to the underdogs very well.

Emma comes back and I see she’s wearing a jacket that looks really good on her. I say so and she blushes again.

“Let’s just go, Em.” She says and I offer her my arm. She looks at me for a second, but then she takes my arm and we walk out.

“Your father was not in?” I ask her. I thought it was customary for the father to come glower at the date.

“Nope, he’s still at the shop. He growled at me a little for leaving early today, but I don’t go on dates too often, so I just told him to get over it.”

“He must be very protective of you.” I tell her. It doesn’t surprise me that much, not after what happened to Dennis and Brian.

“Yeah… I thought you’d bail on me, you know?”

“Why’s that?” I ask surprised. I mean I didn’t get around to taking her out for a long time, but if I say I’d do something, I always do that.

“You know… After Brian… You were friends.”

I nod. Yes, it makes sense. “I can’t help Brian anymore. I wish I could, but I really can’t.”

She looks at me surprised. “Of course you can’t. Why would you even think about it?”

“Because I’m really sorry for what happened to him and I wish there was something, anything I could do.”

Emma rubs my arm sympathetically. “I know. I’m sorry too, I liked the guy. He was real joker, but he was decent sort of guy.”

“Yes, he really was.” I agree, but then I don’t want to talk about Brian anymore. It hurts to think of him and I’ll have tomorrow to say goodbye to him, so I just change the subject.

“I’m glad we’re finally doing this.” I tell her, because it’s actually true. To me, it’s the first date I ever had. I know it’s likely not true, I mean I’m in my thirties or so, but I don’t remember ever being on a date and I think it’s high time I went out.

“Me too.” She laughs. “You are hard to get though!”

I laugh too, because in a way it’s true, I’ve been promising to take her out for a long time. We reach the coffee house at last and I walk her in. Unsurprisingly, everybody turns to see us and they stare unabashedly. It’s a small town and everybody knows everybody. I don’t care much; I’m a staring kind myself, although usually not for the same reasons. It’s worse today, because it’s both of us. Nobody ever saw Emma or me on a date. Emma, because she’s very private person and she’s told me she only goes on the dates outside the town, and me, because I simply never been on one. I think Emma suggested coffee house because she knows I don’t drive and she didn’t want me to feel bad, but it’s hard on her. I feel her squeeze my arm and I place man hand on hers with reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll go to the booth, ok? And they can’t really stare all night.”

“It’s ok.” She mumbles, but I know it’s not. I lead her to the booth and make sure she sits with her back to the crowd. It’s not much of the crowd anyway – twenty people tops, but I know she’s uncomfortable and I want her to relax as much as she can.

We order coffees and I take cherry pie while she asks for some ice cream. I like pies and cherry is my favorite so I think we’re on a good start.

We chat a little while we sip our coffees and eat our deserts and Emma starts relaxing visibly. It’s easier than I thought it would be. Emma knows me quite well, so it’s easy to find things to talk about. I tell her how I had to endure Star Trek marathon with Brian, because for some unfathomable reasons he loved it and I owed him one for the Lord of the Rings. She laughs at that and tells me about the time she had to endure Sex and the City marathon with one of her girlfriends. I haven’t even heard about Sex and the City and we both laugh when she tells me I haven’t missed out at not having heard about it. All in all, it’s a pleasant and easy evening and I’m having a really good time.

That is, I’m having a really good time until I notice the coffee shop go a bit quieter and I see him walking in. Dean. My eyes fix on his automatically and I notice how his fix on mine. We stare at each other as he sits at the table too far from me to hear him. Our staring is broken as someone walks between us and I notice he’s not alone. He came with a big, very tall man who now sits in front of him. I use this moment to focus on Emma again and I smile at her. I’m at a loss of what I should say next, I haven’t heard her last sentence.

I’m sorry?” I mumble and she chuckles.

“Dozed off for a moment there?” She asks and then repeats. “I was saying we should go see World War Z when it’s out. I heard it’s really cool.”

“Yes, it sounds good.” I agree absently. I just can’t seem to concentrate. “What is it about?”

Emma starts talking again, but I just don’t hear her. Instead almost involuntarily my eyes find him again and I’m startled to see he’s still looking at me. The man in front of him turns to see what is he looking at and I look at him. He has a kind face framed by the hair that is slightly too long. It doesn’t matter though, because what I stare at is the expression on his face. It’s pure shock mingled with anger and something else I don’t understand. Dean is reaching and grabbing his arm. I see he’s talking fast and angrily to him and I feel I’m invading. And that’s saying something, because I don’t usually feel when I’m invading. I try to focus on Emma again, but it’s so distracting, knowing he’s right there. It’s absurd really, how much I react to his proximity. I don’t even know the guy, for crying out loud! But the mere thought of him being there tugs at me. What is happening to me? I’ve never felt this way before. Who is he and why do I react to him so strongly?

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Emma is startled by my abrupt departure, but she smiles at me anyway and I feel a little better looking at that smile. I smile back at her, before I go. I’m lucky I don’t have to pass their table on the way to the bathroom, because is in other side of the coffee shop. I don’t really need to use the bathroom, so I just lean over the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I have to pull myself together, but I don’t even know what it is that makes me so restless. I mean I know it has something to do with him, but it’s the first time I feel anything like this and I just don’t know what to do. I sigh heavily and take some paper towels to dry my face. When I look up I almost jump startled, because he’s right behind me, looking at me from the mirror. I whirl around and I’m facing him.

“Hey.” He mutters. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Somehow I think he’s amused as if he’s enjoying a private joke. I don’t feel amused at all. I feel confined. He’s not standing too close or anything, but I still feel the walls close in on me. I think this is what claustrophobia feels like and I don’t like the feeling.

“It’s ok.” I mumble and I try to get past him. I don’t understand my own reactions. A moment ago I wanted to come closer to him, but now all I want is to flee, to get away. Inexplicably I wish I could just disappear. The things I think of in stress! I’m almost past him, when his hand darts and his fingers close around my wrist. I stop immediately and look down at his hand.

“Hey, just… Just wait a moment, ok?” There’s plea in his voice and I just like that know I’ll stay.

“What do you want?” I ask and he lets go of my wrist. He rubs absently at his eyes and then looks at me and I know he’s at the loss of what to say. He doesn’t seem to be a man of many words.

“Look, man, you remind me of someone I used to know. You look just like him and I… I know I’ve been acting like a fucking moron, but…”

So that’s what it is. Of course, it must be it. I remind him of someone; that makes sense. And yet I can’t help but feel utterly and inexplicably disappointed. I actually thought there was something about me that interested him. And suddenly it’s a light bulb moment for me – I’m interested in him! I scowl at myself inwardly – isn’t it an excellent moment to realize you are interested in someone when that said someone tells you that you remind him of somebody else? I pull myself together. At least now I know what’s going on.

“It’s ok, I figured. Sorry to disappoint you though.” I start walking again, because standing here close to him starts to be difficult.

“Wait.” He says again and I halt despite really wanting to get out of there. “Jesus, you can’t be him!” He growls suddenly and I know there’s pain here. He’s hurt and I’m always so uneasy with people being in pain that I flinch back a little.

“I’m sorry.” And I am. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better, but as always – there’s nothing I can do. Then he shifts and he’s in my bubble. John told me about the bubbles. He says everyone has his bubble of personal space – some are bigger, some are smaller. Apparently mine is really tiny, because I keep invading others’. But now he’s in my bubble and I freeze. He rests his forehead against mine and I just can’t move. My breath hitches and I can smell him – he smells of fresh coffee and mint and car oil with the tiny hint of sweat too. It’s such a masculine smell, but it overwhelms me. My head’s starting to swim and I can’t concentrate on anything but the feeling of him so close to me.

“Dammit Cas, is that you?” He whispers and I hear despair in his voice. I feel sorry for him, I really do, but at the same time I can feel my body react to his proximity the way I’m really not used to. I want to wrap my arms around him and make him feel better, keep him safe and just… Just plain keep him. But it’s not me he’s seeing when he stares at me. So I tense further to pull myself together and I push him away gently.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I tell him and momentarily I’m distracted by the way his name feels on my tongue. I carry on. “I’m Emmanuel, not somebody else.”

He looks at me for a moment longer and then nods.

“Sorry, you must think I’m crazy.” He laughs shakily.

“No, I just think you lost someone dear. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, ok.” He mutters and I know the moment’s over. He’s clearly not an emotional type of guy. “Sorry for the drama.”

I know he’s not going to talk more, even though I don’t know why I’m so sure. I take a step back to have a counter width space between us.

“I’ll just go back to my date now.” I tell him and even to me it sounds lame. Brian often said I sound lame and I think I started recognizing it even though I didn’t stop sounding lame. He looks at me then.

“You’re on a date?” He asks and shakes his head. “You’re definitely not him.”

I don’t know how to reply to this so I just shrug and walk away. As I approach our booth I think I should have probably said bye or something, but at the same time somehow I think saying goodbye is not my thing.


	3. To Brian

Sunday

I think of last night as I walk to John’s for our usual Sunday dinner. Well, I try to think of my date with Emma, how nice it had been, but really every time my thoughts return to him. I try to think about how Emma told me of her father and his love for cars, but my mind darts to the thought of his eyes on my face as she spoke of it. I try to think of how her laughter sounded when I told her about the time I accidentally got myself into a huge fight with Brian because I said I thought Star Trek was not only unrealistic but also a bit foolish. We both laughed and Dean’s eyes darted to mine at that. I remember the look in them, softer than ever before and it makes me smile a little. I was so aware of him all evening that I have no idea how I managed to get through my date. I mean I actually managed the small talk, even though all the time I was thinking of him, feeling his gaze on me. When I could no longer handle it, I invited Emma to go for a walk and she agreed. I think she was relieved to leave the coffee shop, were everyone still stared as we walked out. Emma had taken my hand as we got up and as we passed their table on our way out I saw him looking at our hands with a small frown on his face and somehow I liked that frown.

The rest of the night was really pleasant – we walked and talked and laughed together. I like Emma, I like her a lot, but I still think I don’t like her the way she likes me. When I walked her back to her father’s house she said she had a really great time and I said I did too. It wasn’t a lie, I don’t know how dates usually go, but for me it was really nice. She stepped closer then and looked at me searchingly, waiting. With the jolt I realized I was expected to kiss her – I’ve seen enough silly movies to know that. So I leaned in and I did so. The feeling of her lips on mine was… unexpected. She was warm and sweet and I liked the way her lips molded to mine. The feeling of closeness was overwhelming in many senses and I liked it. I liked the way her lips parted and I tasted her tongue for the first time. For all intents and purposes this was my first kiss and I enjoyed it. But at the same time it felt inexplicably… void. Well not really void, but just not enough. Even though I liked the feeling of her body pressed to me and I liked the taste of her warm mouth, I didn’t get that feeling of frozen time as I kissed her. Again, it’s not like I have anything to compare it to, but when Dean rested his forehead against mine, I froze. There was a feeling of a burning knot tying up in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t breathe with him so close to me. It’s foolish, I know it is. He was just desperate to see his friend in me and it really meant nothing, but to me that moment right there was more than the entire evening with Emma, including the kiss. This kiss was comfortable and warm and nice. The feeling I got when he stood so close to me was nothing like that at all. It was raw and raging and there was definitely nothing comfortable in it.

I think I could’ve lived my entire life in the comfort of Emma’s presence if I had never laid my eyes on Dean. But as I had, there was no way for me to lie to myself and tell myself this is enough. I know it’s wrong. I don’t even know him and I’m not even sure I’d like to know him really. And also he’s… well he! John says homosexuality is a sin and although I don’t share his faith, his opinion is important to me and I’d hate to disappoint him, I really would.

I shake my head, because I’m almost at John’s now. I got way ahead of myself with the whole Dean thing and it frightens me. For crying out loud – I haven’t even known he exists twenty four hours ago and now all I’m thinking of is him. It’s pathetic, really, even I know that, but there’s something about him that tugs at me all the time. This familiarity, this energy he has. I wish I knew him better, but at the same time I wish I have never met him. I was safe here and I was happy and now… Now I feel the world closing in on me and I’m afraid of that world, of what it holds and most of all, I’m afraid of whom I am in that world. It feels a lot like falling and even though I have no idea how I know this, I’m absolutely certain that if I fall for him, it’ll be the end of me. It’s déjà vu again and regardless how much I try, I can’t get hold of that feeling lurking at the edges of my consciousness. He’s dangerous… Or maybe I am when he’s around.

I shake my head at these ridiculous thoughts and ring the doorbell although I still have the key to John’s house. He always says his home is my home, but I think it’s common courtesy. He opens the door with the smile on his face and lets me in.

“Always with the ringing Emmanuel.”

“You know me, I’m weird enough without prying.” I laugh and he frowns.

“You’re not weird, son. We’ve been through this.” He’s right, we have been through this. He thinks my quirks come from the amnesia, but I can’t believe this. I mean I lost my memories, but my personality is more than just memories, isn’t it? I hope it is, anyway, but he’s probably right to a degree. I did learn to keep my distance from other people and not to stare that much. Unless it’s Dean, apparently.

“How’ve you been?” I ask him and he understands my question. With Dennis’ and Brian’s deaths the whole town is edgy and when people are edgy, they go to church.

“The sermon was difficult today, people are restless and frightened.”

“Of course they are.” I agree because I see the way people tensed up after all that happened. It’s strange to me they turn to God in the moments like that, because I personally want nothing to do with God that allowed this to happen. It’s petty, I know and John keeps telling me I am no one to judge God, but it’s my life and my opinion. If anything, at least I have free will.

“I was hoping you’d come to church today.” He says. His voice is flat, but I know he’s disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” I mutter to him.

“It’s about Brian, isn’t it?” He asks softly and I nod. John knows how I am about the pain and suffering, so he just wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me into the living room.

“It’s ok, son. I understand. I just wish that in your moments of need you’d rely on our Lord.”

“I rely on you John, isn’t it enough?” I ask defiantly, but he keeps smiling at me softly.

“You would find solace in him.” He says and I pull away.

 “John, I really don’t want to talk about that anymore. I’m not a believer and whatever you do or say I shall not become one. I don’t agree with your God and so far he’s done nothing to make me think otherwise. How are you even sure he’s still there? For all you know he could’ve just died or something! I mean look what’s happening around you!” We had this discussion before of course. And I know it’s futile to argue with the priest, but he’s such a fatherly type to me! I mean I know parents get on their children nerves and although John is not really my father, in this regard he really is. It bothers me he’s got so much faith in God that lets life as it is happen. It makes me angry and sad.

“Ok, fine.” He concedes. “Just go wash up and let’s have dinner. I’ve had difficult week and I really don’t want to argue with you.”

There is the grand total of two things that John is good at cooking and he cooks them in turn. Last week we had roasted chicken so today we are having steaks. I often invite John to my place for our Sunday dinner, but he says it’s the tradition, one of the few we have and he doesn’t want to break it. So I sit down for dinner and of course he brings out the steaks. I find myself thinking I draw comfort from this steadiness of our Sunday dinners.

“Rose told me you went out with Emma yesterday.” He says. I’m not surprised, it’s a small town, I’m sure everybody knows by now.

“Yes. I’ve been promising to take her for coffee for couple of weeks now, so yesterday we went out.”

“How did it go? Did you enjoy your date?”

“It’s kind of awkward to speak to you about that.” I tell him and he laughs.

“Because I’m a priest? Do you have any idea how much people tell me in confessions? There’s nothing that would surprise me.”

“It’s not because you’re priest and by the way, it’s not a confession. It’s because you’re like a father to me.” I notice his eyes soften at that and I know he’s pleased I told him so. John loves me and I love him, it’s very simple. He is like a father to me.

“Anyway,” I continue, “I did have a nice evening. Of course everybody was talking behind our backs, but I wasn’t expecting it any other way. I think it was harder on Emma, she’s not used to being talked about.”

“Rose said you did seem to be having a nice time. I’m glad, son. She is a nice girl.”

“That she is.” I agree.

John looks at me curiously. “You don’t seem too excited.”

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s not that. I really had fun yesterday. I’m just not used to that.”

“Of course not.” He agrees and then changes the subject.

“Rose also told me two FBI agents arrived to our town yesterday.”

“Really?” I ask. “I haven’t seen them yet. But I suppose it makes sense.”

“I’ve seen them in the sermon today. Nice enough people really, a bit young maybe. And that car of theirs – can you believe FBI issues Impalas now?”

“You know I’m not good with cars. What’s Impalas?”

“It’s a Chevrolet Impala, big, old, black, all American car with terrible mileage.”

My breath hitches at that. Big, black and old car? He’s an FBI agent? He didn’t look like one. Don’t they wear suits or something?

“Are you talking about two guys, one roughly my height, brown hair, buzz cut and the other one really tall and big with longer hair?”

“Yes, sounds about right. Have you seen them?”

I consider telling John about Dean coming into the store, but decide not to. I’ve no idea why, maybe I just don’t want to speak about that. John knows me too well, he might sense something.

“Yeah, they were in the coffee shop I took Emma to.”

“Oh, right. Ok, so apparently they were working on the case nearby and heard about what happened to Dennis so they came over to help Sheriff Turner.”

“That’s nice of them.” I say, but something tugs at me anyway. Isn’t it strange, to just come and see what’s happening?

“Yes, it is.” John agrees.

“You know, Tom and I are going out for drinks today.” I tell him suddenly. I forgot to tell him yesterday and I really don’t have much time left before I have to go.

“Do you think it’s a good time for that? I mean Brian is not even buried yet…”

“That’s why we do it. It’s a goodbye to Brian.”

“I see. Well be careful son. Don’t go roaming across town at night until they catch whoever did this.”

“I’ll be careful.” I tell him, although how careful can I actually be? I mean, wasn’t Dennis careful? They found him in his own car… John must be thinking something similar, because the next moment he says, “You know, if you call me, I can give you a lift when you’re done. Both you and Tom actually.”

“No, it’s ok.” I tell him. He’s got an early sermon tomorrow and we probably will be late anyway. I think I’ll walk Tom home, because he’ll be drunk and then I’ll go home. We live on the opposite sides of the town, but really – it’s a small town, not more than twenty minutes on foot. “He’ll probably just crash at my place anyway, so we won’t go wandering.” I lie, but it’s a good lie, because now John won’t be worried.

“Ok then. But if you need, just call me, I’ll pick you up, ok?”

“Yes, ok.” I agree, but we both know I won’t call. John has helped me enough. I will never be able to repay him for everything he did in the first days of my… arrival.

Soon after we finish the dinner I say my goodbyes and promise to come to church next Sunday. It’s been over a month and I know I really should go, so I agree to it and it makes me happy that John is so glad about it. I don’t have time to go home, but I knew I probably wouldn’t so I go to “Hunter’s”. I remember the first time we went there. I didn’t know Brian too well then and I have just met Tom once, but I thought I needed to make friends if I was going to stay here. We had such a good time then, even with me being as I am. Both Tom and Brian got so wasted that Emma offered to help me drag them home and all the way they were complaining about me being sober. I wasn’t really. I felt dizzy and I knew my judgment was rather poor, but I definitely was not wasted. They kept trying to get me drunk after that, but it never worked. It will today though, I plan to get really drunk.

By the time I reach “Hunter’s” Tom is already there. He’s sitting at one of the tables by the wall and there's an unopened bottle of tequila, glass full of lime wedges, salt and couple of beers there. I come over and sit in front of him.

“Hi.” I say. “Sorry it took a bit longer at John’s.”

“It’s ok.” He nods. “Tequila’s fine?”

“Yeah.” Tequila was Brian’s favorite and I knew we’d be drinking it. I open my beer and we clink our bottles.

“To Brian.” He says.

“To Brian.” I echo.

We drink and I see he’s barely holding up. There are no words I can offer him, so I just open the bottle of tequila and pour the shots. We each take lime and salt and we drink again thinking of him. It continues like that for a while, couple of hours really. Neither of us speak much, we’re both lost in our thoughts. I think about all the things Brian has taught me. I’ve only knew him for such a short time, but I have so many good memories of him and of all three of us. We’ve drunk two thirds of the bottle and I see Tom is starting to get drunk. He sighs heavily as he pours us our next shots.

“I fucking miss him.” He says.

“I know.” I agree. “For crying out loud, I’ve only known him for a few months and I miss him. It must be torture for you. He always said you were like a brother to him…”

“Yeah, I knew that son of the bitch my entire life. Did he ever tell you I got him his prom date?”

I smile at that and shake my head.

“Yeah, I did. He was such a geek you know? He used to tell you that you were one, but really, it takes one to know one!” He laughs and I join in. “So I asked Mindy to prom. Mindy Jones, you know?  Except you probably know her as Mindy Turner, Sheriff’s daughter-in-law. So anyway, I asked her and she said yes. She was such a beautiful girl! I mean she’s a fine looking woman now, but back then she was a girl of my dreams. I was so damn lucky she said yes! Right, so I told Brian Mindy Jones was going to prom with me and the look on his face was priceless. He literally dropped his jaw! I knew he didn’t invite anyone, because he was scared shitless. He told you he was a ladies’ man no doubt, but he really wasn’t.”

I laugh again. Brian did tell me he had a way with women, he even told me he’d teach me someday, but from what I’ve seen he’s been even more awkward than I. At least I’m not afraid of women.

“So the next day I come to Mindy and I’m like ‘Hey, Mindy, how ‘bout that friend of yours, Sarah, is she going to the prom with someone?’ and she glares at me. I realize how this may sound so I go on ‘I mean I’ve got this friend, Brian you know… He’s really into her'.” The way he tells the story, I can almost see teenage Tom and teenage Mindy in front of me and I laugh loudly.

“And she’s goes ‘oh, I don’t know… Sarah’s not going with anyone, but that Brian is such a weirdo…’ and I’m like ‘come on girl, he’s awesome!’”

We’re both laughing now and it’s as if Brian is right here with us.

“So anyway,” he continues when we calm down a little, “I convinced her, she convinced her friend and when I told Brian about it, the fool yelled at me for meddling. Such an idiot! He went out with Sarah for two year after that, can you imagine?”

I can. I lift my shot and I say, “To Brian!” We clink and we drink and we both feel better.

“I’m gonna get us another bottle.” I tell him because we’re almost out and I don’t feel drunk. As I stand up my head spins a little and I’m relieved – I mean I’ve drank half a bottle of tequila and five beers! I should be drunk. As I stumble towards the bar, I hear Tom laugh at me and I’m glad, because it’s really what it’s all about. We need to let him go and we need to move on as well.

I stumble to the bar.

“Jack,” I call to the bartender, “we need another bottle.”

“One sec.” He replies and as he moves towards me I notice the customer he’s been pouring bourbon to. I look at him and he looks at me. I know I’m drunk because I find it difficult to stay in my place – all I want to do is go over there and I don’t know… speak to him. Jack puts the bottle in front of me and I tear my eyes from Dean to Jack.

“Thanks.” I mutter. “Couple of beers too.’

“You’re ok with lime?” He asks me and I nod.

“Neither of us really likes lime.” I confess.

“Ok. Here you go.”

I take my bottles and I don’t look at Dean. I walk back to our table and I don’t look at him. I sit down and I don’t look at him, because this night is about Brian. It’s also about Tom and me and our friendship. We will either make it or not and I can’t think about anything else right now, not about Dean really, because he takes all my attention and I can’t have it now. So I don’t look at him and I don’t think about him. And I really don’t, except sometimes I can almost feel his gaze bore into me and I want to look at him so much I have to clench my fists to stop myself.

As we drink more and more, Tom becomes more talkative. He tells me stories about his and Brian’s childhood and teen years and we laugh a lot. I tell him about the time I drove Brian’s car into the ditch and how much grief he gave me for that. Brian was teaching me how to drive and I was distracted by Emma waving at me as we went by and I didn’t notice I was driving off the road. To my defense, Brian didn’t either; we were both looking at Emma. Tom laughs hard and long at that and I laugh with him and it feels good.

“You know, next Sunday I’m teaching you to drive.” Tom says suddenly. He’s serious and he looks me straight in the eye as he says it. I feel so grateful I feel a lump in my throat. I know this is his attempt to stay friends with me and I like him so much for that.

“Thanks.” I mutter, because I don’t trust myself with words anymore. He nods and grins at me. “You better not drive my car into the ditch or I’ll kill you! And we’re staying clear from Emma’s house!”

We laugh at that and drink up. We drink some more and Tom puts Brian’s favorite song on and tells me about the time Brian’s dad took them fishing, but then glowered at them because they couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes. There are so many stories like that and we exchange them, mostly Tom does, and we laugh and drink to Brian again and again.

We’ve almost gone through half of the second bottle when Tom goes to the bathroom. I sit back and close my eyes for a second. I feel pleasantly dizzy and my head is turning slightly. Nothing unmanageable really and I feel really good.

“Hey.” I hear his voice and I take a deep breath to steady myself before I open my eyes.

“Hello, Dean.” I say and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Sorry to butt in, just wanted to ask if you’re working tomorrow.”

I frown at that. Why would he want to know that?

“I’m covering afternoon, why?”

“It’s just… Look man, I’m from FBI and you were friends with one of the victims so I have to ask you a couple of questions.” He says. I look at his eyes a little longer and I can’t shake the feeling he’s lying. It’s a strange thing to think of, but I do anyway.

“Yeah, alright.” I finally mutter and I know I’m agreeing not because I want to be questioned, but because it’s an excuse to see him tomorrow and I really do want to see him tomorrow. I keep looking at him and he just stands there, saying nothing. “I’ll be there from three pm.” I tell him just to say something.

“Ok.” He nods and then says out of nowhere. “Don’t drive under influence.”

I smile at him startled.

“I don’t drive.”

He frowns at that.

“Are you walking home? I mean it’s not safe to be walking alone. Whoever murdered those people might still be out there.”

I tilt my head as I stare at him curiously. He actually sounds worried. So I tell him the same lie I gave John.

“It’s ok, I’ll just go with Tom.”

He looks at me and I’m sure I can see distress on his face.

“Do you live nearby?” He asks carefully.

“I think he’ll just crash at my place.” I tell him and there’s definitely relief in his face. How odd is that? He actually acts as if he cares. And really, I’m drunk, because I say: “Why do you care?”

I look at him and I see him pulling back. Not physically, he’s rooted to the spot, but I can see him pull back and close up nevertheless.

“Hazards of the job.” – He says silently and I nod. Of course, what else could that be? Just because I’m weirdly hung up on him doesn’t mean he is too. And it makes me sad, but it also makes me angry at myself. What on Earth am I thinking of? I don’t know the guy, he’s going to be off in couple of days and by the looks of it, he doesn’t give a damn!

“Well thank you very much for the warning, agent.” I say coldly, because that’s the only way I can think of to pull myself together once and for all. “I think I’ll manage to take care of myself.”

He drops his gaze and I turn away from him. By the corner of my eye I can see him standing there, but I say nothing more, because what is there to say?

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He mutters and walks away.

“What was that all about?” Tom asks as he sits down. His voice is all slurry.

I shake my head trying to clear it.

“Nothing much.” I tell him and raise my shot. “To Brian!”

We drink up and frown at the taste of lime.

“Why the hell did he ever like lime is beyond me.” Tom growls and we both laugh again. That’s what so good about being drunk – you’re easily distracted. And I want to be distracted now. I want to think of Brian and Tom and me and I really don’t want to think about special agent Dean Winchester, because honestly, what’s the point?

We carry on like that, drinking and laughing and telling stories until Tom can barely speak anymore. He’s very drunk and I know I’ll have to walk him home. I was planning to do so, so no big deal, but by the looks of it, I’ll have to carry him if we don’t stop this now. We’re almost out of tequila anyway, so I just go to the bar and pay our bill. I know Dean is still here, but I don’t look at him, despite feeling his eyes on me. I’m actually proud of myself, I haven’t looked at him once since he left our table. Jack wishes me good night and asks me if I need a ride. I tell him the same lie, because I know we’re in Dean’s earshot. Finally, I scoop my very drunk friend, wrap my arm under his and we stagger to get outside. When we’re finally out, I instantly feel better. The cool air is good for me and it makes it easier to focus.

“Tom, you wanna go to my place and crash on the couch?” I ask him but he shakes his head.

“Nah. Just let go of me, I’ll find my way home.” He slurs.

“Yeah, ok.” I tell him and start walking towards his home. “Where are your keys?”

He fumbles his hand inside his pocket and pulls them out. I take them and he whines in protest, but doesn’t seem to be able to form the whining into words so he just drops it. It takes us a long time to get to his home, because if we walk a little faster, he fumbles a lot and I have to almost carry him. So we walk slowly, deliberately. It’s around two in the morning, but I’m not in a hurry, because Mark gave me half of the day off and I’ll have enough time to sleep.

When we finally reach his house, I lean him against the wall and open the door. I walk him inside and lead him to his bedroom. I take off his jacket as he sways. I think he’s already half asleep, because he doesn’t mind me taking of his sweater and pushing him onto bed. I pull off his boots and cover him with the blanket. Then I go to his kitchen and pour him a big glass of water. I know he’ll need it tomorrow. Finally, I walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little of Dean here, but I'm getting to it, I promise!


	4. Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... it finally gets going!

Sunday night

It’s a warm night and I enjoy the walk back home. It usually takes me around twenty minutes, but today I’m not in a hurry, so I think I’ll make it in half an hour. I enjoy the feeling of warm wind against my face, it’s sobering me up. It’s weird how I’m still not that drunk. I mean I’m not sober, that’s for sure, but compared to Tom I’m really almost good to drive. Thinking about driving reminds me Tom will teach me now that Brian can’t anymore and the thought of Tom’s efforts makes me smile. For the first time I think we might be ok, we might survive this if we both try and Tom is already trying so I will too.

I’m almost at home now, I took the shortcut through the park and I’m almost out of the park when I hear a branch snap behind me. I turn to see what’s there, but I can’t see anything. I’m not scared really and that surprises me. I mean shouldn’t I be scared? There’s something out there killing people and it dawns on me how stupid it has been to walk alone into the park in the middle of the night. I scowl at myself, but the fear doesn’t come anyway.

“Well hello, gorgeous!” I hear the voice suddenly and I whirl around to see who that is. The voice is definitely feminine, sweet even and utterly unfamiliar to me. She walks out of the shadow of the tall tree and I see it’s a beautiful woman. She’s very pale made paler still by the moonlight, she’s got dark shadows under her eyes and her lips are blood red. I think it’s a lipstick, because people don’t have lips that red. She smiles at me and walks closer. She’s tall and lean, but her figure is very feminine. “Aren’t you a treat?” She smiles seductively.

“Hello.” I hear myself say. I’m a bit surprised really, it’s odd to meet a stranger, woman nonetheless, in the middle of the park so late at night.

“I was getting so disappointed, you know?” She all but purrs. “No one wandered down here for such a long time…”

“Where you waiting for someone?” I asked confused.

“Oh, that I was… And here you are, so gorgeous, so delicious…”

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got me confused with someone.” I tell her confusedly. This is so odd, no one I know acts this way. As I look at her, she comes so close we’re almost touching.

“No, no, gorgeous. No mistake, you’ll do just fine…”

And suddenly she pushes me and I hit the tree behind me with such force it punches the breath out of me. My mind whirls and I try to wrap it around what’s happening. She can’t be that strong, it’s not possible. She’s right against me again and I see she’s changing. And suddenly it’s like in a slow motion movie. I see how her face elongates, her features becoming sharp but still weirdly distorted. Her eyes roll deeper into her skull, making the shadows beneath them even more prominent. Her mouth seems to grow wider and bigger and even redder than before and her teeth grow longer and sharper. It’s nothing like the movies about the vampires where fangs suddenly grow, but the features of the face remain the same. No, all of her teeth seem to grow slightly and they all sharpen. Even her hands change, her fingers grow bonier and her nails sharpen. I think I must be in shock, because I still don’t feel fear. My back hurts from where I hit the tree, but all the rest is absolutely fine. I brace myself for the fight that I know is eminent and even thought I have no idea what to do, I know I’ll do my best to fight the creature in front of me. I don’t have time to wonder what she is, and really, it doesn’t matter much.

The creature growls at me and tries to bite into my neck. I shift at the last second and I’m right behind her. She tries to grab me by the neck, but I pull back again. This time I’m not as successful and I feel the claw scratching my face right below my left eye. It hurts, but I don’t know how bad it is and I don’t let myself think about that. I can see the smell of my blood frenzies the creature and it attacks again, with renewed force. I try to duck, but she grabs me and slams me at the tree again. I marvel at its strength as I try to think of the way out. She tears a gash into my belly with her claws and I hiss at the pain ripping through me. I hit her right in the face, but she doesn’t even flinch. Instead she laughs at me and slams me into the tree again. My head is getting woozy, but I try to stay focused as I punch her again and again. She launches at me and suddenly I’m pinned to the ground. She growls as she readies herself for the first bite and I have time to wish there was something I could do to kill her. She killed Brian and the fact that I can’t avenge his death angers me more than the thought of my own death. I’m on a borrowed time anyway; I was supposed to die in that lake. I don’t know why I’m so sure, but I am and so my death doesn’t scare me that much, but I wish I could’ve done more. I don’t cease trying to get her off me; I hit her again and again as she lowers her mouth to my neck. I realize those are my last moments, but I don’t stop fighting and suddenly she’s yanked off me. I can’t see what’s happening, but I can hear her screech and I’m sure it’s pain I hear. I’m disoriented as I stumble to my feet to see Dean drive a knife into her chest, where the heart should be. The taller man is pinning her to the ground and muttering something. She screams her pain and fear into the night, convulses and then finally she stills. I stumble to get closer to them, but my back and my stomach hurts a lot and I fall to my knees. I hate being this weak, I want to do something, but it takes all I have to stay conscious in this pain. Dean turns to me then, sees me kneeling there and runs to me, grabs my arms to hold me still.

“Did she bite you?” His voice is urgent and feverish. He’s staring at me and shaking me slightly. “Dammit, did she bite you?”

“No.” I mutter and flinch painfully. “She’s got nails, that one…”

I know there’s relief in his face as he exhales and rests his forehead against mine. He’s so solid and strong, holding me like that. He kneels with me for some time until the tall man clears his throat and Dean pulls back a little. I don’t like that guy right now… Dean turns to him.

“I’ll take him home Sammy,” he says, still holding me, “you take care of this one.”

“Yeah, ok.” The taller one agrees, but I see he’s worried when he looks at me. It’s not me he worries about, it’s Dean and for the first time I wonder who they really are.

Dean stands up and he’s dragging me up with him. He wraps his arm just below my arms and I lean on him.

“Can you walk?” He asks silently, softly and I nod. “Ok, good. Where do you live?”

I try to focus, but it’s hard. It’s not hard because I’m drunk or in pain, but it’s hard because the feeling of him so close to me is distracting. I focus on the pain and my head clears.

“I live right there, you can see my home from here.” I tell him and I attempt to get free of his hold. “You don’t need to help me; I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”He growls and tightens his hold on me. “You also said you won’t be wandering on your own.”

“Change of plans.” I mutter.

“You stupid son of the bitch!” He growls at me. “You would be dead now if we haven’t showed up!”

“Who are you?” I ask suddenly, because I want to know and I have to change the subject. He’s mad at me and somehow it makes me uneasy.

Dean starts walking towards my home, holding me tightly at his side.

“FBI.”

“That’s a lie.” I tell him flatly and he looks at me curiously. Finally, he rolls his eyes and nods.

“Fine, that’s a lie. We’re hunters; we hunt things like the one that just attacked you.”

“There are more?” I ask and he laughs bitterly. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“What was it?” I ask, we’re close to my home now and I’m getting urgent.

“It’s called aruda.” He says. “It’s a hybrid of sorts. It can spend the life living as a human, but if it ever succumbs to its desire for human flesh, there’s no turning back.”

“It killed Brian.” I say evenly. It hurts to think about it and it makes me angry. I would have liked to kill it.

“They usually travel in pairs, so your friend was either killed by this one or the other we have yet to find.”

“So it’s not over yet?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“Listen, you’ve got to be careful now.” He speaks quickly and feverishly. “The other one might have seen what happened and if it did, you’ll be its target. You can’t go walking alone at night.”

“Ok.” I tell him, but I lie and somehow I think he knows I lie. I mean I work till late, what am I supposed to do, fly home from work? “This is my home.”

“Ok, where’s your key?” He asks and I think that not more than half an hour ago I asked Tom the very same question. Could it have been only half an hour? I dig my keys out of the pocket he snatches them and opens my front door. He walks me in and I stop. I think he’ll leave now, but he just looks at me surprised.

“What?”

“Aren’t you leaving?” I ask him perplexed. He’s such a confusing man, really.

“What and leave you? Look at you, man! You need to take care of those wounds. I might even have to drive you to the fucking hospital!”

“You’re taking your job too seriously.” I tell him, remembering, or maybe simply reminding myself, why he cares. “I can take it from here.”

“It’s not my job, you fool.” He hisses at me and drags me to the kitchen. “Where’s your goddamn light switch?”

I turn on the light with my free hand and we both blink from the intense light. He drags me to the kitchen table and helps me sit on it. Finally, he releases me and looks around.

“You sit still, ok?” He growls and continues. “Where’s your first aid kit? And does it have peroxide?”

“It’s in the bathroom, second door to the left.” I tell him. “I don’t know about the peroxide. John gave me the first aid kit, but I never used it.”

“Who’s John?” He asks me as he walks to find the first aid kit.

“Father John Meyers.” I reply.

“The catholic priest?” He asks and he’s back with the kit. He’s nothing but efficient.

“Yes, that’s him. He said he saw you in the sermon today. Well, he said he saw two FBI agents with black, old, American car, so figured.”

“Yeah, we went to the church. Regular drill, you see almost everyone in the church. You weren’t there.”

“No, I’m not much of a churchgoer.”

“Wait, did you say Meyers?” He asks suddenly and he stops putting the bottles and band aids on the table as he looks at me. “Aren’t you Meyers?”

“Yes and yes.” I agree, but I don’t say anything else.

“Relative of yours?”

“My father.” I say and I’m distracted by him standing too close to me again. He’s at the arm’s length, right in front of me and he’s looking at me intently. I think people feel this way about me, when I stare at them from inside of their bubble. Then again they might not, because what I’m feeling about him is definitely not something I have ever felt before.

“Your father’s a catholic priest?” He cocks his eyebrow. “Are you an orphan or something?”

“You can say so.” I agree distractedly.

“You’re a mystery, Emmanuel.” He says suddenly and I smile. “Coming from a hunter of supernatural beings…”

He laughs at that and I laugh with him and it feels good until my stomach wound starts bleeding again and I hiss.

“Yeah, right, we need to take care of those.” Dean is all serious again. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?” I mumble.

“Well I can’t see the wound with the remains of your shirt still on. Take it off.”

I don’t like this, but I obey nevertheless. He looks at me and I can’t help but think he’s appraising me and I think I’d blush if I hadn’t loss so much blood. I can see him focus on the wound at last. He cleans it with the peroxide thoroughly, even though I jerk back when the chemical first touches me. He’s methodical in his work, he doesn’t let anything distract him. Once my wound is cleaned he examines it thoroughly.

“I don’t think you need stitches, you should be ok with the bandages. You will have the scar though.”

“I don’t care about that.” I tell him and he smiles softly. I like this smile; it’s familiar to me although it shouldn’t be. He puts a bandage on me and to do so he’s suddenly so close to me, we’re almost hugging. My breath halts at that and I freeze entirely. He’s focused though and soon enough he leans back again. I start breathing again, very much aware of the reactions of my body.

He looks at the gash below my eye and frowns.

“This one I don’t like.” He says. “It doesn’t need stitches, but it doesn’t look good. Maybe couple of stitches though, to make it less visible.”

He starts working on it and I realize he’s between my legs, his face is inches from me and I really can’t take it any longer. His closeness makes me restless and it’s taking all I have not to move. I don’t know if I would move back or if I would grab him and pull him even closer and this makes me sit as still as I can. And I am still until finally I feel his thumb brush lightly just below the gash. Before I can stop myself, I lean into that touch and he’s cupping my face with his hand. I hear his breath hitch and I stop breathing all together. I look at his eyes and I realize they’re so clouded that they are almost all brown. He’s looking at my lips, still holding my face and I want to close this small gap between us so much it actually hurts. I want to taste him and I want to know if it’s the same as with Emma although already I know it’s not, because the way he’s holding me already makes me much more excited and anxious than the kiss I shared with Emma.

“Fuck it!” He growls suddenly and his lips are finally on mine. It’s a small kiss really, just a brush across my lips, but it ignites me. I can feel fire raging in the pit of my stomach and I all but spring to life. He’s already pulling back, when my hands dart out and grab his hips, pulling him back and now I kiss him. I don’t have much experience, none really, but it’s such an instinct that experience seems benign. My lips move against his and the tip of my tongue tastes his lips, coaxing them to open. I can hear him growl, it’s low and guttural, but he opens his mouth for me and I slide my tongue in, tasting him for the first time. His warm and wet mouth tastes of bourbon and mint and most of all it tastes of him. My body starts to shiver with the intensity of the feelings I try to hold and I examine his mouth, every nook of it until he’s panting slightly. It’s so overwhelming, the reaction of my body to him, the need I have for him, the desire to touch him and taste him and have him. I can’t control it, I can’t keep it in. I cling to him, licking and sucking and simply tasting him until we’re both breathless. I trail the kisses across his jaw to his neck and I suck on it. He moans and that sound makes me want him so much. I’m so hard in my pants it’s almost painful. I bite into the soft flesh of his neck and he moans again, except this time he moans a name and I jolt back, because it’s not my name. I realize his arms are around me then and I struggle to get free. At first he doesn’t let go, but I push and shove at him and finally he loosens his grip and I climb down from the table and move back couple of steps, to distance myself from him, to clear my head.

He looks at me perplexed, but then I see it dawns on him and he drops his gaze. “Shit, I’m sor…”

“No.” I interrupt, because I don’t want to hear this. I’m so angry with myself, furious really. What was I thinking?! “Don’t say anything. Just… go.”

“Emmanuel, I…” He starts again, but I stop him.

“No.” I rub at my eyes because I really can’t look at him anymore. I’m hurt and angry and it’s all my fault. “Look, I’m really grateful for your help and everything, but please, just go.”

He stays silent for a long while and finally I have to look at him. I see guilt in his eyes and it’s too much to bear. I don’t want to see guilt, I don’t need his guilt.

“Dean, just get out.” I hiss at him. I go to the front door then and open it. I don’t look at him anymore, I don’t want to meet his eyes again, because there’s nothing he can say or do really, I just made a huge mistake.

He brushes past me and just before I close my door he mutters, “Lock up, ok? And be careful.”

I close the door and I lock up. And then I slide down to the ground, my back pressed to the door. I feel so pathetic it’s absurd. What the hell was I thinking? He told me I reminded him of someone and I’ve known he’s been hurt by the loss so why the hell did I do that? I mean granted, he started it, but I knew it’s not me he wanted, so why did I do that? Why did I let myself get entangled in this feeling? And most of all, why does it hurt so much to be rejected by the man I don’t even know?

My body starts to shiver, but I’m not cold. I think I’m finally going into shock, because my teeth start to clatter and I wrap my arms around my knees to steady myself. I can still feel him on my swollen lips and it makes me so sad I want to scream. I want him, I can’t deny this anymore, and at the same time I know I can’t have him.

I know I shouldn’t, but I let my thoughts drift to the feeling of his lips on me and my stomach twists into a tight and burning knot again. There was nothing comfortable about the kiss, it was pure energy and desire and most of all fire. Emma’s comfortable and I like her, but Dean… He’s emotions and passion and need so strong it crushes me. It’s so wrong to want him, so wrong on many levels. He’s a man to start with and I don’t know if I’m ok with wanting a man. I mean I know I won’t have him, that much is crystal clear, but am I attracted to men now? I never was, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen anyone I was attracted to. I’m attracted to Emma, my body reacts to her, so I just don’t know. I know John would never approve me having a relationship with a man and although he’s not my father I still want his approval.

How did I get myself into this? Really, how? Here I sit in the middle of the night like a confused teenager, agonizing over my own sexuality. Am I not too old for that? And all because of my poor judgment and misplaced attraction.

I take a couple of deep breaths and I feel the tension start to drain out of me. It might as well be that I overthink things – I mean really it was just a kiss for crying out loud. And he had just saved my life, maybe that’s just it? I’m drunk and I almost got killed, it might as well be I misjudged my attraction. It sounds a lot like a lie to me, but I can’t think about it anymore or I’ll go mad. So I stand up, flinching at the dull ache in my back and much more pressing and sharper ache in my stomach. I walk to my small bedroom and climb into my bed, kicking my shoes off but not bothering to pull my jeans off. I’m scared the sleep won’t come with so much running through my head, but it really is the matter of minutes until I drift to unconsciousness.


	5. Day After

Monday

I’ve got too much free time and I don’t know what to do with myself. I only have to be at work at 3 and I’ve been up for 3 hours already and still it’s just 11 a.m. I’ve cleaned up, changed my bed sheets, because they are covered in blood from my jeans that I didn’t bother to take off, changed my bandage, because apparently I had a restless night and my wound opened up and bled through. I think I should go to see Dr. Tucker so he can have a look at the wounds, but I don’t know how to explain them and how to explain why I didn’t come to see him straight away. My cheek doesn’t look too bad, but it seems she hit me strong enough to leave the shiner underneath the bruise and I actually look beaten up. I can hide the stomach wound and the ache in my back that feels even worse today, but I can’t hide my face so I have to come up with an excuse. ‘I fell’ is all I’ve got for now, but it sounds so lame I can almost hear Brian snickering at that. It’ll have to do though and since a lot of people saw me getting drunk yesterday, I even think it’ll be plausible. I called Tom couple of minutes ago to check on him. He sounded groggy and he’s definitely not in the best shape. I didn’t get any hangover and Tom said he hated me when I told him as much. I know he doesn’t though and I feel sorry he isn’t doing so well. I asked if he needs me to come over and help him with something, but he said he only wants to sleep and doesn’t need anything.

So now I sit at my kitchen table with my second cup of coffee and I’m out of excuses not to think about him. I'm so embarrassed I want to hide at home so I don’t see him again. In all fairness I don’t think I’ll see him again, because why would I? He said he'd come over at work, but that was when I thought he was an FBI agent and he probably thought I was possible suspect. None of this is true anymore so there’s really no reason for him to be there. He must understand I wouldn’t want to speak to him after what happened last night and I can’t really help his investigation anymore. Yet the thought of never seeing him again, although soothing in embarrassment department is agonizing on its own. Despite of my own stupidity or maybe because of it, I want to see him again. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the way his eyes darted to my lips when I leaned into him, about the way he tasted when I dipped my tongue into his warm mouth for the first time, about the way his arms tightened around me and most of all about the way he growled and moaned at my touch. But I also can’t stop thinking about the way he moaned that name. Cas. It bothers me that I actually feel jealous about this unknown Cas. It’s so stupid I want to scowl at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? How can I be so hung up on this guy only two days after I first saw him? It’s so not like me… It took me almost a month to get Emma on a date, but this… what is it? Obsession, maybe? Well, this thing is happening so fast and it’s so intense I’m at the loss of how to handle it. I have to stop this now. I can’t let myself become even more hung up on him or I’ll really get hurt. And really, there’s only one thing I can do to finally get him out of my head.

“Hi Emma.” I say when she picks up her phone.

“Em!” She replies enthusiastically and I can’t help but smile at that. “What a surprise! I thought you’d be in comma like state now, from what I heard about your night!”

That surprises me. I'm pretty sure no one except for Dean and that other one, I think he called him Sammy, saw what happened yesterday.

“Why?” I ask her carefully.

“Oh, you know, Jack told me you guys cleared his tequila stash clean!” She laughs and I join in.

“It was a small stash.” I tell her seriously after a moment and we laugh again. It’s so comfortable with her, so easy.

“Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to go out for a dinner tomorrow? I work until eight, so I know it’s going to be late, but you know…” I trail off.

“Sure.” She says at once and I smile again. “Got something in mind?”

“Well, I think it’s going to be too late for cooking, but I don’t know, we could grab some take out maybe and come to my place? Or we could eat at Del’s if you like. It’s a bit crowded though.”

She’s hesitant for a moment.

“I’d like to come to your place, but I think there’ll be too much talking if I do.” She says at last and I understand she’s probably right. It’s really a very small town we live in.

“Yeah, ok, Del’s then?” I ask her.

“Sounds great.” She agrees. “You know, I think I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to go all the way to my home. It’ll be quicker that way.”

“I don’t mind picking you up.” I tell her, but I know she’s right.

“No, it’s all good. How ‘bout we meet there at 9? Will you make it?”

“Yes, that sounds good.”

“Great.”

“Ok, I’ll see you then.” I tell her and I hang up the phone. I close my eyes for a minute and I can’t help but think it’s too easy or else just not enough… I stop myself from going that way though by jumping up from the bed. I have to go for a run and clear my head. I still have enough time before I have to go to work and jogging helps me relax and just not think about anything. So I quickly change into my running clothes and shoes and turn on the iPod Tom and Brian gave me for my pretend birthday. It’s funny, really, how we came up with my birthday when I had to fill in the request for my temporary papers. Brian insisted I had to have a lucky birthday, so he came up with the month and Tom came up with the day. Only after I registered them they told me they were the respective month and day each of them had sex for the first time. They laughed their heads off when they told me this, even though I scowled at them. So now I turn it on and go for a run with Linkin Park bellowing in my head so loudly I can’t hear my own thoughts.

/\/\/\

When I reach my work I am late. That’s the first time I am ever late, having worked here for over four months now. I hate the fact I’m late, but I hate that I’ll have to lie about why I’m late even more. And it’s really such a stupid reason when I think of it! What the hell was I thinking? I mean granted, I never had wounds before that I remember of, but surely I had to realize jogging would open my stomach wound! But no, I really haven’t even thought about it. It hurt a little at first, but I didn’t pay much attention. My back was sore too, but I ignored that as well. Until finally I actually saw the blood seeping through my T-shirt. What an idiot! So I had to walk back and I was pretty far away when I noticed the thing… And then the whole ordeal of cleaning the wound and bandaging it when I can barely bend took me so much time that now I’m late. And it’s not like I can run to work, now I know that’s no good!

I walk in to the store to find Mark standing there, his brow furrowed. My first thought is he’s angry, but the tone of his voice says otherwise.

“Dammit, boy!” He growls. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you!”

“Sorry Mark.” I mutter.

“Sorry my ass! I was worried about you! After what happened to Dennis and Brian I thought whoever did that might’ve gotten you!”

Mark is not only my boss. He’s best friends with John and I know he cares for me. He’s older than John, in his late sixties, and he’s a lot like an uncle to me. That’s why he teaches me carpentry and that’s why I work such a long hours – he’s almost like a family. And so instantly I feel sorry I made him worried.

“Sorry.” I repeat.

“I thought you were still wasted when you didn’t show up at three, but when you didn’t even pick up the phone! And what the hell happened to your face?”

I shrug and try to look embarrassed.

“As you say, I got wasted yesterday and well… A step got me.”

He looks at me for a longer while and the nods.

“Are you ok at least?” He asks finally.

“Yeah, I’m all good, it’s just stupid. I don’t get wasted often and this is a reminder why.”

“Maybe you should go home? You might have a concussion or something.”

“No, I'm really ok Mark. And thanks for the morning off, I needed to sleep in.”

“I overwork you… You know what, I think I should at the very least give you Saturdays off.” He says determinedly, but I shake my head. Too much free time is not what I need, not now anyway.

“No, I like it here, you know that. I don’t mind working Saturdays, really.”

He looks at me puzzled.

“In my days, when a guy got himself a girl, he'd be happy to have more time off…”

“We went on one date.” I tell him seriously and I roll my eyes. So now everybody knows. “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind if I actually get a girl.”

“Fine, fine. She’s a good girl though, do good by her.”

“Should I marry her now that I’ve taken her for coffee?” I ask attempting to be sarcastic, but Mark deflects easily.

“You wish you were so lucky!”

We both laugh at that and Marks moves to gather his hat.

“By the way, the FBI guy came in earlier” He says as if in an afterthought, but I freeze entirely. “He wanted to ask a couple of questions about Brian and Dennis. Seemed surprised not to find you here.”

“Yeah, I met him yesterday; he mentioned he would step by.” I tell him as evenly as I possibly can. “I suppose he got all he wanted from you then?”

“I don’t know. He seemed bothered you weren’t here. Got a bit anxious when I told him you were never late and I couldn’t reach you.”

“Why’d you say that?” I ask him and I can already foresee the problems. He’d probably come back and I really need to distance myself from him as much as possible.

“He asked.” Mark says and I work to keep my face absent.

“Anyway, I don’t think I can help him with any of it. If I knew who did that to Brian, I would’ve told Sheriff by now.”

“That’s what I told him.” Mark nods. “I’ve got to go boy. You call me if you feel worse, you hear me? Concussion is a tricky bitch; I don’t want you passing out here.”

“I’m fine Mark.” I smile at him and he huffs grumpily before he leaves.

I take a deep breath and flinch at the pain in my back and my stomach. Really, how could I have been so stupid to jog? I settle behind the counter and shortly the first customers arrive. It’s a familiar pattern – they come, we talk about what’s happening in town, they ask something about me, I deflect by offering to help them choose what they want, they buy it, thank me and leave. I like town people and I like this store so it’s really easy to work the hours I work.

It’s nearly the closing time when the bell jingles and I turn to what I'm sure is my last customer for the day, but it’s not. It’s Dean.

It’s so much like a sentimental movie that I can’t help but sigh. My eyes fix on his and I can see his face drain of tension and anxiety as he stares at me. I’m at the loss what to say, but so is he, so we just look at each other for a while longer. Finally, I pull myself together and drop my gaze to the counter in front of me.

“Can I help you?” I ask and I realize those are the exact same words I told him the first time he came two days ago.

“I thought something happened to you.” He says and before I can say something, he continues. “Your boss said you were never late.”

“I got held up.” I tell him vaguely. I want to believe there’s a really worry in his voice, worry for me, but I know better so I try to ignore it all together. I try to keep my distance. “Is there something you want?”

He looks at me for a longer while now, but I don’t meet his eyes. It’s just too hard to look at him, because I can’t fend off the thoughts of his lips on me when I stare at those eyes.

“I said I’d come.” He tells me evenly.

“Yes, but when you said that I thought you were from the FBI and you probably thought I was a possible suspect. None of it holds true anymore, unless you think that creature and I had a lovers’ spat and she tried to munch on me.”

“I don’t think you’re aruda.” He says. “But I do want to speak to you.”

“About what?” I ask frowning.

“About last night.” He says and he’s coming closer to me. I'm so happy there’s a counter between us. I never liked that thing more than I do now.

“I don’t really have to talk to you.” I tell him and he nods.

“I know, but I hope you will anyway.”

“Fine.” I take a deep breath and meet his eyes. “What is it you want to talk about?”

“How are you?” He asks and I'm startled by his question. “How’s your wound?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why were you late?” He asks and his eyes are searching, boring into mine.

“I got held up.” I repeat. “It has nothing to do with last night though and I thought you wanted to speak about that creature?”

“Come on, man!” He growls. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine.” I hiss. I'm unexpectedly angry at him. He shouldn’t be asking if I was alright, he’s just messing with my head and I hate it. And most of all, I hate the way I still hope he might care about me…

He shakes his head. “Fine.”

“If that’s all you wanted to know, I have to finish up here.” I tell him.

“That’s not all.” He says at once. “Listen, about last night, I'm really sorry about… you know.”

I suck in a breath trying to stay focused.

“It’s fine, Dean. If anything it’s me who should be apologizing anyway.” I reply flatly. It takes a lot of me to be able to speak so calmly about this, but I do it anyway. I have to.

“How’d you figure?” He asks perplexed.

I sigh.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk about that and I don’t understand what my poor judgment has to do with the creature you’re trying to catch.”

“Your poor judgment?” He asks slowly. “I thought it was I who kissed you.”

“No, no.” I tell him just as slowly. I don’t look at his eyes, because I think there’s still some pain in my eyes and I want to hide it from him. Hell, I’d like to hide it from me even. “You kissed whoever you thought I was. Your Cas. I should’ve known and it was really stupid of me to reciprocate under the circumstances. So here, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Wow,” he breathes, “you’re really good at overthinking stuff…”

I snap my head up and glare at him. I’m so angry now I feel I could burst. Who does he think he is? Fine, what I did was epically stupid, but he has no right to make fun of me.

“If mocking is all you’ve got to say, I think you should go.” I hiss at him and he recoils slightly.

“Come on! I’m not mocking you, you just surprised me! I mean I thought you’d be pissed at me for yesterday…”

“Why would I be angry?” I ask him, but I'm still angry, because it’s such a joke to him. I try to pull myself together though. I don’t want to talk about any of this anymore and it really would be better for me if he just left. “It’s nothing really. Just a mistake. Look, if that’s all, I have to start closing up.”

“How are you getting home?” He asks me unexpectedly.

“What do you mean? It’s ten minute walk.” Honestly, he’s so confusing at times.

“So you were going to walk home alone again? After what happened yesterday?” I can see he’s angry.

“Well, what did you think I’d do? Fly home?”

He rolls his eyes at me.

“Where’s your car?”

“I don’t drive yet.” I tell him and shake my head. “Brian’s been teaching me, but… I don’t have my permit yet; Tom will help me get it.”

“Who’s Tom?” He asks.

“My friend. You saw him yesterday, at Hunters’”

“Ok. I’ll take you home.” He says out of nowhere.

“What?”  
“You close up and I’ll take you home.” He repeats as if I’m a slow child.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t go alone. I mean am I talking a different language here? The thing is likely looking for you! Do you want another round with it? Did you like the first one?” He’s really angry now.

“You don’t have to do this.” I tell him silently. I probably shouldn’t be surprised. He said he’s a hunter, he helps people so no wonder he wants to help me, but it’s strange for me nevertheless. I barely know him and it’s already complicated, I don’t want to get in deeper.

“Fuck it Emmanuel! I do have to. I won’t let it get you, you hear me?”

“Em. You can call me Em, given that you saved my life once and attempting to do it again.”

He stares at me for a long while and I think he’s trying to get his temper under control. Finally he hisses. “Fine, Em that is.”

And all of the sudden I feel like smiling. It’s funny, really, how unhinged I am, but I can’t help it when my lips twitch up.

“You can sit there while I finish up.” I tell him with a slight smile and he gives me a puzzled look. I understand that look, I mean I don’t get myself either. I think it has to do with him wanting to help me – I’m so pleased he cares enough to do that, even though I know his reasons are not what I’d like them to be. Anyway, it’s definitely not something I’d like to speak to him about, so I just shrug and go about my work. He doesn’t go to sit; instead he roams around the store looking at things as if he’s actually shopping. I finish up, put the things in order and put the ‘closed’ sign on. I put my jacket on, but I wince visibly as I do that. My back is really sore, even more so than my stomach. And just like that he’s right here, in front of me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I tell him and take a step back. As always his closeness affects me more than I care to admit. There’s that ball of fire in the pit of my stomach again and it intensifies as he grabs my wrist and pulls me back closer to him.

“Hey…” I start to protest, but he cuts me off.

“Speak to me Em. What’s wrong? Do you need me to take you to the doctor? Dammit, I think I should’ve done that yesterday!”

“I'm ok Dean. Really, everything’s fine, just a bruise I suppose.”

“You’re sure?” He asks, but I can’t answer, because he presses his forehead against mine and I really can’t breathe anymore. It’s so wrong the way I want him, the way I have to keep myself rooted the spot, the way I consciously don’t allow my arms to wrap around him, the way I freeze in his proximity. And yet it feels so right, the way I want him. I don’t answer him still, because I think if I move at all, speaking is not something I’ll do.

He pulls back a little to look me in the eye and I see worry there. That’s is, I see worry there until he takes in whatever it is I have in my eyes, because when he does, his eyes darken and his breathing hitches. He’s in my bubble and my bubble is such a tense place right now it almost crackles. He looks at me a second longer and then his lips are on mine again and I lose it just like the first time. I give in to this kiss, relish in it and there’s nothing I can do about it. I press myself closer to him and I can feel his arms around me, pulling at me. He licks his way into my mouth and I allow it without hesitation. The feeling of his touch, the taste of him drives every doubt away and suddenly I’m so hot and I want him so much it overwhelms me. I moan into his mouth and I hear him growl at that. He bites into my lower lip to stifle that growl and jerk slightly as the jolt of pleasure rushes through me. I feel my entire ground shake in that kiss, but he’s so steady, so solid in my arms that it’s still ok. I mean I’m scared more than I ever was by what this might be doing to me, but I don’t have it in me to resist, not when his tongue slides across my lips, not when his nipping at my jaw and definitely not when his sucking at my neck with such force that I know I’ll have a bruise there tomorrow. He kisses his way back to my lips and I’m lost in the sensations his warm and wet mouth provides.

Finally, he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.

“Dammit Em, what the fuck am I doing?” He whispers. I don’t know how to answer that. My mind is reeling and I don’t know what to say because really, what is he doing? What am I doing?  I should be distancing myself from him, but I crave to touch him, to kiss him, to have him… It’s going to end badly, I know that already. He’s leaving anytime now and I'm going to stay and live with the knowledge of what could’ve been, what I could’ve had. Except that I can’t have it, it’s not an option and it’s not my choice. So I tense up and pull back again, even though all I want to do is bury my face in his neck and hold onto him.

“If you still want to give me a lift, I think we should go.” I tell him. I see he’s surprised by my change of direction, but I don’t want to speak about it anymore. And what is there to say?

“Yeah, ok.” He agrees and we walk out of the shop. His car is right in front of the shop and after I lock up I look at it appreciatively.

“I know I’ve said it already, but I like your car.” I tell him and he chuckles.

“How’s that you don’t drive?” He asks.

“I don’t have the license yet, I told you. I will though.”

“Yes, but how can you not have a license? I mean didn’t you ever want to drive?” He asks and I consider telling him about me. I don’t want to though, it’s too complicated.

“It’s a long story.” I tell him. “I like driving though, although I should probably be more careful. I drove Brian’s car into a ditch once.”

He laughs at that and we get into the car.

“That reminds me the time Sammy drove my car into a fence. I was so pissed at him!”

“Who’s Sammy?” I ask him. I think this is what he called the tall man, but I’m not sure.

“My brother. You’ve seen him – he’s tall as a building, hard to miss.”

“That’s your brother? So hunting those creatures is like a family thing?”

“You can say so.” He agrees and I see he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Where is your brother now?” I ask him instead as he starts the engine.

“He’s doing some research. We’ve got to find the second one before it attacked again.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping him then?” I ask because I think he should.

“Yeah, but he’s good at digging. Besides, I was worried.” He doesn’t elaborate and I don’t ask. Better to stay clear from the subjects like that.

“What else is there?” I ask him. “I mean those arudas are probably not the only thing there is?”

“No, there are all sorts of things. Hundreds, really. You name the stupidest sounding myth and it’s probably true… Vampires, werewolves, demons, an…” He suddenly cuts himself off.

“What was that?” I ask him.

“Nothing. I should turn here, right?”

I know he’s lying, because this town is so small it’s impossible not to know where to go. I don’t push him though because he doesn’t have to tell me anything.

“Yes, right here.” I tell him. “It’s ridiculous you wanted to drive me home, it’s right here…”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that already.” He nods absently and pulls over in front of my house.

I look at him and I don’t want to go. I really don’t want him to leave because I think it’s be the last time I see him.

“Thanks.” I mutter and he nods dismissively. I look at him for a moment longer and then before I can stop myself I ask. “Do you want to come in?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” He mumbles and now I nod.

“Ok. Thanks anyway.” I’m about to get out of the car when he grips my arm.

“Screw it, I want to come in.” He says and I can’t help but smile at him. He grins back and we both get out of the car. As we walk to my home I know it’s a huge mistake I'm making, but I want to do it anyway. I’m so deep in trouble it’s ridiculous and yet I let myself sink deeper. I let him in and turn the lights on.

“Make yourself at home.” I tell him as he looks around.

“How long have you been living here?” He asks.

“Three months, give or take. Why?”

“It’s… very empty. I mean no offense of course, but it feels a lot like a hotel. Is there anything personal here?”

I smile at that.

“I get that a lot.” I tell him. “This is my home though and there is something personal.” I lead him to the shelf where my only photos stand. There are three of them.

“Here – this is Brian and I on the day I managed to drive to Tom’s house without incidents.” I show him the photo, where we’re both standing next to Brian’s car, grinning madly. “Tom took that picture for us. And this one,” I point at the picture of myself and John, “is at John’s. Mark took this one on the day I left John’s home.”

I show him the next one where I’m standing between Emma and Tom and Brian is right next to Emma. We all have arms around each other shoulders.

“This one is at Hunters’. It’s a housewarming party for my home that somehow ended up in a bar. Tom and Brian got so wasted that Emma and I had to almost drag them home.”

“That’s the girl I saw you with at the coffee shop.” He says slowly. “Your girlfriend?”

“Well, I think it takes more than one date to call someone your girlfriend.” I reply and he cocks his eyebrow.

“So you’ve only been on one date?”

“So far.” I say and I don’t continue. He asks anyway.

“Will there be a second date?”

“Yes, I’m taking her out tomorrow.”

“Emmanuel and Emma? That’s something.” He teases and I’m suddenly angry.

“Well this way we can be sure not to say the wrong name when we kiss.” I hiss at him and he recoils. I regret doing it, but I'm angry with his condescending tone.

“I suppose I deserved that.” He says finally. “So you like her?”

“Yes.” I don’t elaborate, because I do like her and I don’t want to tell him I like him so differently and so much more intensely. He looks at me though, he looks at me that way, searching and concentrating and all I can think of is how much I like him, not Emma.

“And yet you respond to me in every way…” He whispers and his arm sneaks around my waist and my heartbeat fastens.

“Yes.” I mutter. I don’t trust myself with saying anything else and really it’s kind of obvious by now how much I respond to him being right here.

“Good.” He mumbles against my lips and I can taste his breath on my lips and I lick them. He groans and he crushes his lips to mine, possessively, eagerly and I respond with the same heat. We kiss as if it’s the last time and for all I know it probably is and so I pour myself into that kiss and marvel in what he is and what he feels like. I clutch at him, ignoring how my sore back protest at the pressure of his arms around me or how my stomach starts throbbing dully as I press myself harder to him. I kiss him and I bite at his lip and I suck at the corner of his mouth until I get the moan I was so looking for. Suddenly, I feel his hand slide under my T-shirt and I gasp at the feeling of his hands on me. He caresses my back, but when I bite into his collar bone he grips me tighter and before I can stop myself I let out the yelp of pain.

He pulls back at once and he’s looking at me worried again.

“What is it Em?” He asks seriously but it’s somewhat offset by the fact that his lips are swollen and glistening and that he’s panting slightly and that he’s cheeks are flushed.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” I tell him.

“Cut the crap, man. What the hell is wrong with you?”

I sigh at that. I suppose the moment’s over.

“It’s just a little bruise on my back, that’s all there is.”

“Let me see.” He says at once, but I shake my head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s absurd. I’m alright, ok?”

“Dammit Em, just let me see!”

I don’t know where I get the guts to say what I say next, but I do that anyway. I pull my T-shirt over my head, but as I do so, I mutter.

“If you wanted to get me shirtless there was a better way of doing it. You were kind of on the way.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He growls and he pulls me into a quick kiss, before he turns me around. He gasps at whatever he sees there. I know there’s a bruise there, I can feel it, but I didn’t really want to look, so I don’t know how bad it is.

“Dammit! Why didn’t you say something? You must be in pain!”

I turn back to face him.

“It’s ok. It’s a bit sore, I’m sure it’ll pass in couple of days.”

“Your whole back is all cuts and bruises! Did you at least take something for the pain?”

“It’s not that bad.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I should’ve taken you straight to the hospital.” He says finally and I put the T-shirt back on.

“I think you did a pretty good job patching me up.”

“Yeah, about that – why’d you change the bandage?”

“It started bleeding again, so I changed it.” I’m so not telling him about the jogging. I know I was an idiot doing it, I don’t want to hear that from him. “Listen, do you want something to drink? I don’t have much, but I think I have beer. Or coffee maybe? I'm sure I've got pie.”

His eyes light up at that.

“You’ve got pie?” He grins. “I’d like some pie!”

I laugh at his enthusiasm and he laughs with me.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a sec.”

When I bring him the pie, I find him sitting on the couch, flicking through channels.

“You don’t have a decent cable I can see.” He says and I grin.

“I don’t have much time for TV. Here you go, it’s cherry, hope you like it.”

“Man, there’s no pie I don’t like!” He enthuses and I laugh again. He lifts up his fork, but before he can even taste it, his cell phone rings. He swears under his breath and takes out his phone.

“Dammit Sammy, this better be good.” He growls and then listens for a while. “You’re sure? Yeah, yeah, ok. No, I said ok.” He listens again. “Fine, I’ll pick you up in ten. Dammit, I said I’ll pick you up. Bitch.” He hangs up the phone.

“I take it your brother and you have a certain way of communicating…” I tease him and he laughs. He takes a bite of the pie and looks at the rest longingly before he stands up.

“I gotta go.” He says. “Sammy says he’s found aruda and from the sound of it he really has.”

I look at him for a moment longer and then turn away to lead him to the door. The rush of different emotions goes through me until the last one settles. I'm worried for him, because he’s got to go face that horrible creature and I want him to be safe. I’m also disappointed he’s leaving, because there’s so much more I want to know about him. But most of all I’m just so sad I didn’t get to have more time with him. I knew it was going to be brief from the start, he said it himself, he’s in for couple of days but I’m really sad it was as short as this. I know it’s selfish, but I wish he didn’t find that aruda and he’d stay for few more days. I don’t let any of this show on my face when I look up at him, because is just not fair to him. So I just smile.

“Good luck with it.” I say. “Be safe.”

“I’m always safe.” Dean says and I see he’s surprised by my smile.

“Yeah ok.” I agree and he grasps my wrists and pulls me into a kiss. I know he’s careful not to hurt my back, but I wish he’d wrap his arms around me. I respond to the kiss nevertheless, same as I did so far and there’s fire in it even though it feels so much like a goodbye I want to yell. I kiss him again and again and I don’t want to let go, until he finally pulls away and I realize it’s the first time he’s done it.

“I gotta go.” He says again breathlessly and I nod. It hurts to let him go, but I have to so I try to do it with as much dignity I can still muster.

“Ok.” I open the door and he walks out. I see there’s something else he wants to say, but it’s too much of a goodbye for me, so I just close the door.


	6. Second Dates

Tuesday

I wake up with the jolt. I think I was screaming again, but as always I don’t remember my dreams. I get up though, because there’s no way I'm going to sleep now and it’s really almost time to get up anyway. It’s funny how the first thing I think of is Dean. And the second for that matter. He’s all I think about as I get a shower, dress up, decide not to eat, because I'm really not hungry, and walk to work.

I open the shop and fall into my pattern, trying my best to concentrate on things happening around me rather than the thoughts of him. It’s crazy how hung up I am, ridiculous.

The day passes in the blur, although I can’t help but glance expectantly at every new arrival with the hope it might be him. It’s not, of course. He should be long gone by now, but I just can’t stop hoping.

When I finally close the shop, I see I have enough time to go home and change before my date. Now that I think of it, it was probably not a good idea to get Emma on a second date. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but really, what good can it bring? I don’t feel about Emma the way I feel about Dean, it’s as simple as that. Of course, he’s not an option, I can’t have him, but can I really settle for her after having experienced what true attraction is? And how is it fair to her?

I reach my home and change into black slacks and blue button down. I liked my white shirt better, because this blue kind of makes my eyes too bright and I don’t like it. But it was ripped to pieces by that creature, so it’s really not an option. When I’m done I walk to Del’s and all the way I try to concentrate on Emma and not to think of him.

When I arrive there, Emma’s already waiting for me. She took the furthest table there was, but the place is crowded so there’s no privacy there. I don’t mind too much, but I do feel sorry for Emma, she hates being so exposed.

“Hi Emma.” I greet her with the smile and her returned smile warms me. She’s such a nice girl, I wish I could actually like her that way.

“Em! You look great.”

“Thanks.” I mutter and sit down. “Did you order already?”

“Nah, I was waiting for you. I did order a bottle of wine, hope you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all.” I say.

“I was a bit afraid you’d sworn off drinking after Sunday.” She giggles. “Tom definitely had.”

I laugh.

“Yes, I can imagine. He’s such a lightweight!” I laugh, but then grow serious again. “Don’t tell him I said so, he’d take it as a challenge.”

“So it was housewarming all over again?”

“No, it was way worse than that.” I tell her and again we laugh. Waitress comes to us then. Her name’s Susan and of course we all know each other.

“Hi guys!” She chimes. “Here’s your wine. Are you ready to order?”

 Emma starts to say I just got in, but I stop her.

“Just bring me your special please.” I tell Susan and she turns to Emma.

“I have the same.”

“Great, two specials on the way!”

“So I spoke to Tom today. He says you two had a great time at Hunters’”

“Yes, we really did. I wish Brian would’ve been there though… I spoke to Mrs. Talbot earlier today. She says the police released his body so they’re having the funeral tomorrow.” I remember the awkward conversation I had with Brian’s mother. She’s still in so much pain, but she did sound better than the time we visited her. “I asked Mark to let me out tomorrow and he said it was ok. Will you go to the funeral?”

“Yes, my dad and I will. How could we not?”

I understand that. Emma was friends with Brian long before I was. In all honesty probably everyone will be there tomorrow. It’s the small town and we all celebrate and mourn together.

“I wish they would catch the monster that did this!” She says suddenly and I want to tell her they did. But of course I can’t so I just nod.

“You know, we should probably speak about something else. It’s a date after all.” I say to lighten the mood and Emma’s lips curve into a smile.

“You’re right.” She agrees and looks pointedly to a bruise on my cheek. “So how are you? Mark said you fell down.”

“Yes, it was stupid really… I shouldn’t drink.” I shrug and she laughs.

“You know it may sound stupid, but you look kind of… I don’t know, ruthless with the gash like that!”

I laugh and I actually blush slightly. I know it’s Emma’s way of complimenting me and I like her for doing that.

“Perhaps I should fall more often?” I wonder and she giggles.

I tell her more about the night at Hunters’ and about my work today, omitting the part where all I can think of is Dean, and she tells me about her day and about the car shop and finally about the car she wants to fix for herself. I listen politely and nod in all the right places, but my mind is not in the conversation. I hate that it’s not, but I can’t do anything about it. Susan brings us our dinner then and we eat and drink wine and we even laugh a lot, but it’s just not good enough, whichever way I try to look at it. Finally, we finish up and I offer to get out of there, because it’s getting too crowded even for me.

I walk Emma out of Del’s and we decide to go for a walk in the park. It’s one of those nice nights, when there’s almost no wind and it’s warm and pleasant. Emma entwines our fingers together as we walk and I don’t pull back. She leans into me when we walk and I don’t step away as well. I like the feeling of her against me, it’s so comforting. And when she’s right here, so close to me, I don’t even think about anything else. There’s no ball of fire in the pit of my stomach and I don’t want to grab her and kiss her and hold her, but at the same time I enjoy her proximity, because it’s soothing and comfortable and I don’t have to question every look and every move she makes. We walk like that in the silence for some time until I finally speak.

“I enjoy our dates.” I tell her and she smiles happily at me.

“Me too. I'm glad you called. I know the whole twenty four hour thing, but I was getting anxious.”

“What twenty four hour thing?” I ask her confusedly.

“Well, you know, where you don’t call your date for twenty four hours if you want to carry on dating.”

“I don’t understand. Why don’t you call if you actually want to?”

“It’s like a rule, I suppose.”

“I’ve never heard of such rule.” I admit and I'm really puzzled. Who on earth would come up with the rule like that? If you want to see someone – you call.

“You’re kidding right? Everyone knows twenty four hour rule.”

“It’s a silly rule anyway. I called you because I wanted to call you. I didn’t even think if it was appropriate. I mean we’re friends, aren’t we? I trust you’d tell me if you didn’t want me to call.”

“I would. But I’m glad you called, I wanted you to. Besides, I suppose the rule is more for people who are not friends to begin with.”

“Oh. Ok.” I’m still puzzled. It seems utterly stupid thing to do – wait for twenty four hours to call someone, especially if that said someone is also waiting for twenty four hours for you to call. “Why didn’t you call?” I ask her.

“I wanted to. I think I would’ve called eventually, but… Well you just did it first.”

“I don’t mind if you call Emma.” I tell her, because I really don’t.

“Good, then I guess next time I’ll call you.” She smiles and suddenly steps in front of me. I realize we’re alone in the park, it’s finally private. She wraps her arms around my waist and I pull her closer. Her eyes shine with anticipation and I wish mine would mirror hers, but I know they don’t. I close my eyes so I don’t reveal too much and I kiss her. I probe at her lips with the tip of my tongue and she opens her mouth eagerly. I slide my tongue in and her mouth is sweet and warm and wet, but it doesn’t have the heat his mouth holds and however hard I try to focus, this kiss doesn’t ignite anything in me. It’s a good kiss, slow and tender and I enjoy the feeling of her tongue brushing along my upper lip and caressing my tongue, but there’s no heat, no urgency I came to expect and crave from the kiss. Emma moans silently when I suck in her bottom lip and I marvel how this same sound, so sensual in its purpose and meaning does so little to me now compared to how my whole body shook when I elicited this same sound from Dean. It’s not fair, this comparison, and I know it, but I can’t seem to stop. When I finally pull away I can see Emma’s blushing furiously, but she looks at me with such a happy smile I can’t help but smile back. We start walking again, our hands clasped together. I think about how from the outside it’s a beautiful date – we chat, laugh, hold each others’ hands and kiss, but from the inside it’s just so complicated. If I felt nothing for this girl it would’ve been easier, but I really like her and she’s my friend, so knowing I can’t reciprocate the way she probably wants is troublesome. I wish I could, I really do…

Finally, I walk Emma home. I don’t suggest going to my place for drinks, because I think she might have agreed and I don’t want to complicate matters any more so I just walk her to her home instead. We kiss good night and it’s a long and sweet kiss, but the heat doesn’t come.

“I had a great time, Em.” She whispers to my ear. “I hope we can do it again soon.”

“I had fun too.” I tell her vaguely and plant a small kiss on her cheek. “Good night Emma, I’ll call you.”

“Good night.”

I watch her go in and she turns and waves at me before closing the door. I take a deep breath and start walking home. I have to pass the park on my way home and I sit on one of the benches there. I like the night and I like stars, so I lean back and watch them. It’s so relaxing to watch the stars and realize some of them are long gone and what I see are the mere echoes of the distant past. I take comfort in the knowledge that nothing really ends, there are always impressions of the past, regardless how long ago it was. It’s a somewhat uneasy thought, but it still calms me.

I sit on the bench for almost an hour, not wanting to go to my empty home, because I know I’ll start thinking of him again. I do go, though, because I'm getting cold and because it’s getting late.

As I'm approaching my home I can see a car parked in front of my door. At first I think it’s at my neighbor’s door, but as I come closer I realize it’s not. With the jolt of hope, I think it’s his car, but it’s a bit too far away. I quicken my pace and I can see that there’s someone standing, leaning against the driver’s door and I know, I just know it’s him and it’s such a relief to see him!

I make myself slow down, to walk to him rather than run to him, but it’s an effort that’s costing me a lot. Finally, finally, I reach him. He stands motionless and I stand in front of him.

“Hey.” He says with a small smile.

“Hi.” I reply and we both look at each other for a while. Finally, I ask. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He answers simply and I nod.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” I tell him and I can feel my stomach twist into a tight knot. I walk to my door and he’s following close by. I open the door and walk in and I can feel him right behind me. Before I get the chance to turn the lights on I hear the door click shut and his arms are around me and his lips are on the back of my neck. I shudder at his touch and lean into it. He kisses his way to my ear and nips it and I gasp loudly.

“How was your date?” He growls into my ear and I shiver again. I'm so out of my depth with these feelings and sensations, I don’t even know how to react.

“It was… ok.” I gasp between his kisses on my neck. It’s so hard to concentrate with him holding me like this.

“And yet you’re right here…” He turns me around and kisses me full on the mouth. I groan into his mouth as the fire ignites and rushes through me. I clutch at his back and I lick my way into his mouth, tasting him, savoring him. My body reacts to his touch with full force; I can feel my heartbeat fasten, my breathing becomes shallow and uneven and I'm so hard in my pants I'm throbbing. I bite at his lip and I kiss my way down his jaw and neck to his collarbone where I bit in yesterday. I don’t see if there’s a mark there because it’s too dark and I don’t want to bother with the lights, but I suck on this sweet bone again and he moans loudly in his husky and grumbling voice. I can barely control myself not to buck my hips into him; instead I carry on kissing him and sucking at his skin. He hasn’t shaved today, but I love the feeling of his stubble on my face and lips. I return to his lips and I coax his tongue into my mouth. The taste of him overwhelms me still and there’s a rumble of pleasure forming deep in my throat as I suck on his tongue. His hand is in my hair then tugging me back, exposing my neck to him and he bites into it gently, but still with enough force to leave the mark and we both groan. He pulls away suddenly and I stifle my protest by gritting my teeth. His forehead is against mine and he mutters.

“Dammit Em, how is this even real?”

I caress the side of his face with my fingertips.

“Don’t go there, Dean. We don’t have time for that.” I tell him, because we really don’t have time for second thoughts right now. I take his hand and lead him to the living room. I turn on the lights and we both blink at the light for few seconds. We look at each other and we chuckle.

“I thought you left already.” I tell him as I motion him to take a seat on the couch.

“We were going to.” He tells me. “We caught the aruda yesterday, piece of cake really.”

“Why haven’t you left then?”

“We didn’t have a lead, so I convinced Sammy to stay for today. The nerd he is he found us the case this evening, but I told him I was too tired to drive tonight. We’re leaving in the morning.”

“But not too tired to come by?”

“Apparently.”

“Ok.” I tell him. “Why didn’t you step by the shop?”

He looks uncomfortable with the question.

“I was thinking about it… Hell, I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to get in deeper, you know?” He shifts and I can see he doesn’t like talking about these things. I press on nevertheless, because I just have to know.

“Why are you here now then?”

“I wasn’t going to come, but… Jesus, I saw you on your date and I fucking wanted to get you alone, ok?” He doesn’t look at me but I feel like smiling. I don’t though, I don’t want him to be embarrassed.

“You saw me with Emma?” I ask instead.

“Yeah, Sammy whined about wanting some decent food, so we went to the only place there is in this goddamn town. Del’s, isn’t it? Anyway, I saw you two through the window, you were laughing at something and she was holding your hand and I don’t know… I wasn’t hungry anymore so I dragged Sam out. I couldn’t stop thinking about it though, so here I am!”

“I’m glad you came.” I tell him and he grins a little at that.

“I was actually kind of worried you might bring her home, you know. I mean you were on a date!”

“It’s not like that.” I tell him, but I don’t go further. He does.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t… Emma and I… It’s just not like that with her. I don’t feel that way about her, at least I don’t think I do. And it’s a small town and she’s my friend, so I can’t just… you know.” I feel so awkward speaking about these things to him, but I saw how awkward he was telling me why he came so it’s fair I suppose.

“Hmm, hazards of living in a small town.” He says slowly, lazily.

“No, hazards of meeting someone I actually want.” I reply boldly and he pulls me into a kiss at once and again I give in entirely. We kiss until we’re out of breath, we’re panting and our lips are tender and swollen. He releases me then and I realize I'm almost in his lap. I untangle myself from him with the smile.

“Hey, have you still got that pie?” He asks me suddenly and I chuckle as I nod and walk to the kitchen to bring him the pie.  He smiles happily at the sight of it and I laugh.

“You’re easy to please.” I tell him and he cocks his eyebrow.

“I’m a simple kind of guy.” He agrees and digs into the pie.

“So what’s your new case about?” I ask him settling onto the couch again. He slides closer unconsciously so our thighs touch. It’s a small contact, but it’s so sweet and reassuring I can’t help but smile.

“We’ve been tracking these beings, leviathans. Sam thinks he found their headquarters.” He says with the mouthful.

“What are they?” I ask, but I inexplicably shudder at the name. Déjà vu rushes through me again.

“Those are some serious badasses… They’re new, well they got out not too long ago anyway so we don’t really know what to do about them. Hunters all over the States are digging, investigating trying to find the way to kill them. No such luck yet.”

“So why are you going there if you don’t have a way to kill it?” I ask him and I'm worried now.

“To watch. We need as much information we can get about them. There’s a way to kill them, but I need to know as much as I can to do it right.”

“In other words, it’s dangerous, stupid thing to do, but there’s no one other crazy enough to do it?” I ask him seriously.

“You can say so.” He agrees with the grin, but I frown at him. “You’re worried.” He finally catches up.

“What gave me away?” I ask and he grins again. He pulls me by the back of the neck and kisses me again. I can taste the pie on him and this sweet and sour taste of his tongue on mine makes me sigh contentedly. We kiss for a long while again and I forget what we were speaking about and why was I worried. I just marvel in the sensations this man elicits in me and I think about nothing else except his taste and his touch on me. When he finally releases me I’m again almost in his lap. How does this happen?

I want to ask him something, but I know it will kill the mood altogether so I refrain. Instead I ask him if he wants to watch a movie and he agrees at once. I don’t have a lot to choose from, but apparently the little few I have satisfies him and he quickly chooses Die Hard. I chuckle at his choice and he scowls.

“What? John McClane is amazing!”

“Yeah, ok, ok.” I agree and put the movie on. I bring couple of beers and we settle to watch it.

“I have to warn you,” he says suddenly, “I'm not a cuddly type, so don’t have any ideas.”

I laugh at that.

“Don’t worry, I won’t smother you with my cuddliness.”

And yet not even twenty minutes later I’m pressed hard against him, kissing him, touching him. We forget about the movie as we lose ourselves in the sensations that are so new to me. I don’t think it’s new to him, he comes out as someone with a lot of experience, but the way he shivers and moans under my touch makes me giddy with joy and pleasure.

I’m not one night stand kind of guy, I’m really not and I have little to no idea what I'm doing, so I don’t try to take it further, I just enjoy kissing and touching him. I think he doesn’t want to take it further too, because he refrains from anything else. We just kiss and touch until we’re both breathless and panting. That’s when his phone rings and I know I really hate that stupid thing!

He looks at me apologetically as I untangle myself from him and he tries to catch his breath.

“Sammy?” He asks and to me he still sounds breathless. “No, I'm fine. I’m fine. You actually wanted something or did you just call to ask about my breathing abilities?” He scowls and I chuckle silently.

“No, I'm busy. I know I said I was tired, but I needed to get out… Dammit, what’s with the twenty questions? I don’t know, later. Later! Jesus, you’re such a chick!”

He puts his phone down then and rolls his eyes.

“Do you have to go?” I ask him carefully. I don’t want him to go, because this time it will be a goodbye, but I want to know.

“No.” He says at once. “Unless you want me to.”

“No.” I smile and settle back on the couch carefully not touching him. “So no cuddling, right?”

“Shut up!” He laughs and slides closer to me so our thighs are touching, just like before. We watch the movie for another half hour before I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I want to ask you something.” I tell him. I know it’s a bad idea, but I really want to know.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to tell me, but I wish you would.”

“Jesus, what is it?” He asks warily.

I take a deep breath.

“Who was he? Cas.”

I can see him tense up and I think he won’t reply, but he sighs deeply and looks down at his hands.

“He was my friend. Family really.”

“Was he your boyfriend?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“No, it was not like that. It was complicated.”

“Did you love him?”

“I never thought about that then. Dammit, I was so tangled up in my and Sammy’s shit I didn’t even think about it until he was gone…”

“What happened to him?” It’s crucial to me, because what if… I know I'm not him, I can’t be, but there’s that little what if.

“I happened to him.” He growls suddenly. “I fuck things up, Em. Even you… I'm already doing it… Shit. Cas was my friend and he did everything he could to help me. And the piece of shit that I was, I never even bothered to look and see if he was alright. And the son of the bitch never came to me! He made such shitty choices and he never came to me! And you know what the most fucked up thing in all this is? I think he actually loved me too much to load me with his problems! What kind of friend was I if I didn’t know he was all alone in his battles?”

I can see it’s very hard for him, this memory and this sharing and I want to stop him, to hug him and tell him it is going to be alright, but I know he needs to get it out. He’s been keeping all this in for too long.

“I asked him and he lied to me and I was so hung up on my and Sammy’s problems and didn’t spare him a second glance! He got tangled in things he couldn’t handle and by the time I realized how bad it was, it was already too late… I begged him not to do that, but it was too late… He begged me to stand by him and even when I refused and threatened him, he still protected me. You know what’s the last thing that stupid bastard did? He fucking tried to save me, that’s what! After I failed him in all and every way his last choice was trying to save me! And he did fucking save me, but he couldn’t save himself and I failed to save him… And for the last six months all I do is try to get over the fucking undeniable truth – I fucked up and I lost him!”

His voice breaks then and he turns away from me. I see he’s trying to pull himself together, to be in control again, but it’s still hurting him too bad. I slide closer and put my arms around him, hugging him closely and soothing him. His last words, ‘six months’ tug at me, but I try to ignore it, because he needs some comfort now and I want to give it to him. I mutter something, like how it’s going to be alright and how it’s not his fault but he shakes in my arms.

“It sounds to me you two loved each other very much.” I whisper and I feel so sorry for his loss. I hate his pain, it’s hard to bear his pain and I wish I could do something for him, to alleviate it in anyway. I want it so much I almost will it to happen.

He jerks in my arms and stares at me wild eyed.

“What was that?” He asks and I look at him puzzled.

“What?”

“That.” He says. “What did you do, Em, and most importantly, how’d you do that?”

“I haven’t done anything.” I mutter.

“Cut the crap! I know weird when I feel it. This was weird.”

“But… But…” I’m perplexed. “I haven’t… What could I have done?”

“I don’t know. I felt like shit a moment ago and then suddenly… I don’t know, I felt better.”

“Maybe you just needed to talk about that?” I ask hopefully and he scowls.

“Have you done this before?” He asks seriously and I suddenly think of Mrs. Talbot. I think he can see it in my face, because he pales. “You have… Who are you Em?”

“What do you mean?” I’m scared now and I think it shows.

“People can’t ease the pain at will and yet you did.”

“I didn’t do anything…” I mutter and jump from the couch. There’s a weight of something big, massive hovering above me and I’m so frightened I want to scream. I start shaking my head as I move away from him. I think this is what panic feels like, because I can’t really keep it in anymore. I feel like a caged animal, I’m scared and I want to go away, disappear somehow. He jumps from the couch too and catches me swiftly.

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s ok, calm down.” His arms are around me and I relax into his touch. My breathing is still too fast, but the panic’s subsiding and I can think clearly.

“Sorry,” I mutter at his neck and press a kiss there, “I guess I freaked out a little… But Dean, I didn’t do anything. I just wished you weren’t in so much pain.”

“It’s ok.” He whispers and his fingers brush through my hair. “We’re good.”

“Do you want to stay?” I ask him suddenly. I don’t let go and I don’t look at him as I say this. “You can sleep on the couch, you know.”

He stiffens in my arms for a second and then I can feel him nod. “Yeah, ok, I’ll stay.”

I look at him then and I kiss him. It’s not a heated kiss, more of the ‘thank you’ and ‘we’re ok’ type, but the way I enjoy it scares me more than all the heated kisses did. I'm in such a deep trouble… I can’t think about it now though, because I don’t have much time left with him and I won’t waste it on fear or pity.

“Let’s just finish the movie.” I tell him and bring couple of more beers as he settles in.

“Who would’ve thought Die Hard was such a drama!” I hear him mutter under his breath and we both grin.

After the movie’s done, I put on Die Hard 2 and I bring him more beer. I don’t want anymore and it really doesn’t do anything for me anyway. He sips at it and then looks at me curiously.

“Em, give me your number.” He says. “I’ll give you my number you can always reach me on.”

I look at him for a long while and then I do what Brian used to call my doggy thing – I tilt my head. It’s very natural for me somehow, but after having heard Brian laugh at it all the time I now catch myself doing that.

“Are you ever coming back?” I ask him and I see he’s startled by my question. He looks at me for a long while before answering.

“I don’t know.” He finally says and I see it’s the truth, he really doesn’t.

“Then I’d rather not.” I tell him.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to spend my days waiting for you to call or not allowing myself to call you. It’s better this way – you leave and it’s done.” It’s hard to speak about this, but I know I'm right. If I hope to resume the life I had before him, I need to cut it clean.

He nods at me.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I just thought that you know, in case you’re in trouble, you could call me.”

“Thanks, but how many supernatural things can happen in the town this size?” I smile and he chuckles.

“You’d be surprised…” He mutters and then changes direction getting me completely off guard. “Are you going to see Emma again?”

I'm so surprised by his question that I answer automatically, without even thinking about it.

“Probably.”

“I thought you didn’t feel that way about her.” He says and his lips twitch with the smallest of smiles.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t like her. Besides, it’s not like I have a choice to keep someone I do feel that way about…”

“No, I suppose not.” He agrees thoughtfully. He puts his beer on the table and moves closer to me. “Do you think I shouldn’t have come today?”

“No, I'm glad you did.” I tell him at once and I see his eyes light up.

“Good.” He pulls me closer to him and leans back to watch the movie I have completely forgotten was on. If that’s not cuddling, then I don’t know what it is and I can’t help but smile at that. He nudges me gently and scowls when I chuckle.

We watch the movie for a long time, enjoying this peaceful time together. When it’s over I look up at him and I see he’s dozed off. It’s really late, almost 3:30 in the morning and I'm also very tired. I wriggle out of his arms, but he doesn’t even feel that. I fetch the spare blankets and pillow and I shake him gently. His eyes snap open and I can see he’s disoriented at first and then it comes to him.

“Is it morning already?” He asks and I shake my head.

“No, but it’s late and I have funeral and work tomorrow. And you have a long drive, so we really should get some proper sleep. I brought you some blankets and a pillow.”

“Ok, thanks.” He smiles at me.

“If you need anything, just take it.” I tell him. “Or call me.”

“Yeah, ok.” He stands up and I kiss him slowly and lazily, holding him in my arms. I'm sleepy, but the kiss still makes the fire blaze in the pit of my stomach. I refuse to think of it as a good bye so I just whisper “sleep well” and go to my room.

/\/\/\

Wednesday early morning

I wake up with the start and I realize someone’s shaking me. I recoil and try to break from the grasp of that unknown someone my sleepy mind doesn’t have time to identify.

“Shh, it’s ok, it’s me, calm down.” I hear soothing voice and as my tired brain takes it in I relax into his grip. Dean. It’s Dean. He stayed at my place last night, of course.

“What are you doing?” I ask him hoarsely and from the sound of my voice I know – I’ve been screaming again. I mutter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

I feel so hot I'm almost feverish. I'm all sweaty and I can feel the remains of the dream lingering, lurking at the edges of my conscious mind, but for the life of me I don’t remember what it was. What could it have been that made me scream and thrash until Dean woke me up?

“Are you ok?” He asks me silently. “You were screaming the way I… It was very intense.”

“I'm ok, it was just a dream.” I tell him and I try the reassuring smile, but I'm still shaky and I don’t think it comes out alright, because he shakes his head.

“What was it about?” He asks.

“I don’t remember. I never remember my dreams.” I confess.

“Never?”

“No.” I shake my head and as I start to calm down I realize he is still holding me. I look at him, taking the sight of him in. He’s in his AC/DC t-shirt and boxers, no pants. It’s the first time I see him without pants and although I never imagined it quite this way, it still doesn’t fail to arouse me. I swallow hard as I stare at him and before I can control it, I am kissing him fully, heatedly. I wrap my arms around his neck and as I kiss him I pull at him coaxing him, almost forcing him to come into my bed. He’s almost on top of me, his hands at my sides as he tries to hold his weight and resist my tugging.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but his voice is so husky now that all it does is make me harder still.

“Yes, yes.” I say at once and his lips return to mine, his body on top of me at last. I can feel all of him, his long legs between mine, the panes of his hard chest against mine and most of all his hard and throbbing cock brushing against mine through two layers of soft fabric. I’m so out of my depth, I have no idea what am I doing and how to do it, but all I know is I want him, I want to feel him and I want to make him feel me, so I let the instincts take over and I just don’t think at all. I moan into his mouth as I slide my hands under his shirt and touch his bare skin for the first time. I marvel at the sensation of him in my hands. His skin is smooth and heated and his body is so tantalizingly strong I'm panting already. He pushes up suddenly, but before I can protest, I can see he’s simply taking off his t-shirt. He straddles me now and the view of him on me makes me buck my hips into him and he groans loudly. He tugs at my t-shirt and I pull up to let him remove it. I still have the bandage on, but as he lowers himself on me once again, the bandage is all forgotten. I gasp loudly when he trails his lips down my neck and chest to my left nipple. He sucks on it and I arch into this touch, my eyes wide open. He chuckles contentedly at my reaction and rolls my right nipple between his fingers as he continues to suck and flip the left one. And all I can do is whimper and moan because the sensations overwhelm me. I don’t think I ever felt this way, amnesia or not, because this is something I simply wouldn’t have forgotten.

I grab his hips and I turn. He yelps in surprise as I pin him to the bed, but I really want to feel him, to kiss him and to taste him, so I ignore his muttering and I start kissing him, all of him. Despite the fire raging in me, I take my time. I taste and lick and nip at his skin trailing my lips and tongue from the hollow of his throat to his prominent abs. He’s strong and beautiful and I want him, all of him. I slide down further and I’m nipping at the soft skin of the insides of his thighs. He moans loudly at that and I brush against the bulge of his boxers deliberately. He groans suddenly and pulls me up, kissing me with the neediness I have never seen. He rolls us over again and pulls down my boxers before taking his off as well. We’re fully naked now and the realization of it makes my cock throb and I whimper. It’s unbelievable how much I want him, how different lust is from what I have read about it. All I can feel is the raging fire, raw and all consuming, and I want him to touch me, to have me.

He lowers himself on me again and he starts rocking into me. The friction is all I need right now and I gasp at the sensation of our cocks rubbing together. He grips them firmly together and starts pumping steadily, working his hips along the rhythm. I mirror his movements and soon I’m panting, my heart racing in my chest and the feeling growing in me is so overwhelming I don’t have words for it. All the while Dean kisses me, every part of me he can reach; my neck, my shoulders, he licks at my nipples and he bites into my collarbone. I groan and I grab his ass to speed him up and he tenses further, matching my need with his thrusts and his pumping. This is when it starts happening – I can feel it building, reaching the level I can no longer control it. Dean is muttering something to me, but I can’t understand him anymore, because I’m lost in this sensation. It’s so big, it’s too much and I can’t hold it in anymore so I just let go and I come whimpering his name. The fire in me intensifies, scolding me, threatening to burst out, but I hold on to it, not letting it consume me, but rather intensifying what I feel right now. I buck my hips uncontrollably when I come and a second later I can feel him shuddering and groaning and coming too.

Dean rocks into me few more times and then he collapses on me and I hold him, feeling all of him. He’s sweaty and hot, he’s breathing fast and his heart is beating madly, but his limbs begin to relax. I kiss his shoulder, nuzzle into his neck and I’m so undeniably happy right now, I can’t even make myself move. I never thought it could be that good, that intense and that gratifying. People talk about sex, but talking about it and experiencing it with someone you want as much as I want him is completely different. This was bliss, this was beautiful. I caress his back, trailing my fingers down his spine, drawing the shapes that feel familiar to my hands, but not to my head. Finally, Dean sighs contentedly and rolls off me. I take my T-shirt and clean us up a little and he smiles at me and pulls me into his arms. I place my head on his chest and I listen to his slowing heartbeat.

“Thanks for waking me up.” I mumble sleepily and he chuckles.

“Anytime.”


	7. Goodbyes

Wednesday

In my life, as much as I remember it, I never enjoyed waking up. More often than not I wake up with the jolt of panic coursing through me or from the sound of my own scream, so waking is definitely not my favorite time of the day. Except today it definitely is.

I suppose I slept well, because I wake up slowly and lazily and I really don’t remember waking like this before. The first thing my mind registers is that I'm not alone. There’s that second where I hang at the brink of reality and then it hits me, of course I'm not alone, I'm with him. I smile lazily before even opening my eyes, because I am wrapped around him, tangled with him so much I don’t know where my limbs end and his begin. My smile widens even more when I realize he’s holding onto me just as tightly.

“Morning.” I hear him mumble and I raise my head from his chest to look at him. He’s smiling his most relaxed smile I have ever seen and all I can think of is how handsome he is when he’s so relaxed.

“Morning.” I reply and I brush chaste kiss across his lips. I put my head down again and listen to his heartbeat. It’s so amazing, the way we lie here, the way I have him, even if it’s just for a moment. I feel him starting to caress my back with his fingertips, trailing them around my vertebrae carefully avoiding my bruises. He’s not in a hurry and I’m happy to have these last minutes with him.

“Em, tell my about you.” He says slowly and I raise my head to look at him again.

“What do you want to know?” I ask. I know I haven’t told him the most important thing about me, but really, it just never came up. Besides, when it will come up, there will be problems, because I just know what he’ll think.

“Anything.” He mutters. “I want to know you.”

“Ok.” I agree after a moment’s hesitation. I mean really, after he told me about his Cas it’s really only fair if I tell him how I came to be who I am. It’s a lie otherwise. “I suppose I should tell you how I got here.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said you were local?”

“In a manner of speaking…”

“You lied to me?” He’s so surprised it’s almost funny. I mean I’ve known him for the grand total of four days and he’s shocked that I could have lied to him. I haven’t though, not really.

“No, I didn’t really lie. I just… omitted some parts of the truth.”

“Ok, just spill. What does that mean?”

“I came here a little over six months ago. Except coming here is probably not the right wording. John found me a little over six months ago on the shore of the lake where I was alone and dying. If not for John I think I’d be either dead or in some kind of mental institution now, because John finding me is the first thing I remember, so I really owe him a lot. Not to mention that he'd given me shelter and food and helped me get to my feet finding me the job. So for all intents and purposes he took care of me and he raised me and really how’s that not what fathers do?” I look up at him now, because he’s very silent. His eyes are wide and he’s gone all pale.

“Over six months ago? On a shore of the lake?” He whispers and I curse under my breath.

“I thought you’d think of it. Dammit Dean, I’m not your Cas!” I growl at him, but I'm not even angry. It had to come to this, of course it did. I mean if he lost him six months ago and I came to being at that very time, looking just like him, then it’s too much of a coincidence, isn’t it? Except that I'm not Cas, I'm Emmanuel and I don’t want to be and can’t be anything else.

“Castiel.” He says suddenly and I look at him confused. “His name was Castiel.”

It must be some kind of a cosmic joke really, because how on earth could this be happening?

“Castiel.” I repeat and although the sound of this name doesn’t really sound familiar, the way it rolls from my tongue definitely does. I shake my head though.

“I'm not him, Dean.” I tell him firmly.

“You don’t remember.” He replies and I see hope in his eyes, hope that hurts me and hope that hurts him.

“I’m not him.” I repeat calmly. “You better snap out of it, because I will kick you out of my home if you don’t. I'm not Castiel.”

“But how can you… I mean Em, for all you know you could be!”

“It doesn’t matter what I could or couldn’t be Dean. I am Emmanuel and I'm happy being me, do you hear me? I don’t want to be anything else! I don’t want to remember who the hell I was, because whoever that was, he wasn’t a happy man! I wake up screaming every other day and I thank the fate or whatever there is that I don’t remember what I dream of that makes me scream like that! Today, right here was the first time ever I woke up without fear hovering above me and dammit, I liked that! I have decent life here – I have my family, my home, my friends and I’m happy here. I don’t want to think of who I was before, because whoever that was he was alone and nobody was even looking for him when he disappeared. People love me here and I love them! This town is my home and although I have only been here for six months, I am local. Have you noticed how nobody told you, the FBI agent, I was an outsider? Mentally instable because of my amnesia to add? And that’s in time when everyone was scared and saddened by the loss of two of our midst. You know why that is? Because they love me and I love them and that’s what home is all about. So don’t you lie here looking at me like that and hoping I'm someone else, because I'm not! If you want to go, fine, go, but don’t you expect me to be somebody else!”

“Em, I… I didn’t mean to… Jesus, you have to understand…”

“No, Dean, I don’t have to understand anything. I mean I’m not a fool, I know you are here because of him and I knew it when I pulled you into my bed last night. It doesn’t matter really, because you’re leaving in couple of hours and I don’t regret anything. This feeling, this need I have for you is something I never anticipated and I don’t regret succumbing to it. It was amazing and I'm happy to have felt it and experienced it. But even though you’re here because of him, it doesn’t give you the right to expect me to be him. You can pretend I'm him and I can pretend you want me and not him, but that’s all there is. I can’t ask you to see me and not him and you can’t ask me to be him.” My heart is pounding now, the bliss of the morning evaporated and there’s a painful throbbing of loss in my chest. Dammit, why couldn’t I have told him about something else?

“I'm not here because of Cas.” He says silently and I look at him. I know there’s hope in my eyes and I can’t seem to stifle it. He continues. “Not entirely anyway. It was never like this with Cas and I don’t know if it could’ve been. You two are so alike in details, in appearances, in the manner of speech and the way you move, but you’re so different too. I've known Cas for four years and we never even progressed beyond the awkward hug… Jesus, I just… I don’t know, I guess I hoped, you know?”

“I know.” I nod. “And I'm sorry. Maybe it really wasn’t such a good idea after all…”

“Shut up, it was awesome.” He grins suddenly to lighten the mood and he kisses me. It’s a quick kiss, but I smile anyway. He settles back and resumes tracing his fingers along my back. “So tell me more. What happened when he found you?”

I lie there listening to his heartbeat for a while longer before I start talking again.

“Ok, so he took me to a hospital and after I got better, he offered me to stay with him. I didn’t have many options anyway, it was either mental hospital or John’s and obviously I chose John’s. It was surprising really how he did all he could to help me. I mean I know his faith kind of makes him do it, but I don’t think many priests would have done what he did. He invited a complete stranger who had no idea who he was to his home. Even now I'm amazed by him. He helped me in any way he could, he taught me simple things, like how to shave, because somehow I forgot it. Or how people have personal space that I shouldn’t invade.” I chuckle at that, but he tenses and I look up. He just shakes his head.

“Anyway, soon after he got me my job. Mark and John are friends, you see, and he pulled the strings and here I was. I don’t think Mark minds anymore, because I do all I can to give him as much time as possible. He has problems with his health, you know? Anyway, he’s been teaching me carpentry, I like it… And all the rest… I don’t know, sort of happened. I made friends with Brian and then Tom and Emma, I got to know everyone in this town and I got to like them… And then the aruda happened and here you are.” I plant a kiss on his chest.

“And you’re happy here?” He asks me seriously and I know it’s a loaded question. I think he wants me to tell him I'm not really happy so he can find a way to bring Castiel back, but I am happy. I don’t know if I ever was Castiel, but it seems likely and I can’t deny it, but the fact is I don’t want to be him.

“Yes Dean, I really am.”

“Ok.” He says and falls silent again. After a long while he asks me. “So John’s a priest?”

“Yeah.” I say and then smile sadly. “I can’t even imagine what he’d say if he saw me now…”

“Why?” He’s confused somehow.

“Well, look at me!”

He shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s a sin, Dean.” I tell him seriously. “The way I want you is a sin. It’s bad enough I don’t share John’s faith, this would definitely disappoint him…”

“Hey, look at me.” He says urgently then and I raise my head. “Believe me when I say this, God couldn’t care less who we choose to take to our beds. I had a really reliable source telling me it’s load of bull how people judge each other in the name of the Lord.”

“It doesn’t matter, Dean.” I tell him dismissively.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not God’s approval I want, it’s John’s. And in his eyes this is a sin.”

“Then he’s mistaken.” He says it with finality and I don’t argue. There’s no point to argue really, because this is just something I care about.

“Anyway,” I say with the smile trying to distract us both, “I still think John would be pissed because he’s likely rehearsing his sermon for my and Emma’s wedding.”

“Are you getting married now?” He asks in disbelief.

“I've been on two dates and one of them ended with me pulling you into my bed, so what do you think?”

He laughs at that and I join in.

“You are going to keep seeing her, aren’t you?” He asks and I want to hear jealousy there. I don’t think it’s there though.

“Probably.”

“Why? I mean why don’t you look for someone you’d actually like?”

“But I do like her.” I tell him confusedly. “Just because I don’t feel this fire with her doesn’t mean I don’t like her. If I haven’t met you, I’d think it’s perfectly normal to feel this way about someone. She’s a nice girl and she cares about me. And really, I care about her too, it’s just different.”

“How is it different?” He asks and I sigh.

“With you it’s always fire. With you I can’t control myself. With you I don’t care how stupid it is, I just react to you and do whatever feels right. With you I’m always on the edge and I can’t help but crave it. I know it’s crazy and I know I’m in trouble, but I can’t make myself care…”

At this he pulls at my hair slightly to make me look at him. I do and I see his eyes have darkened. My breathing fastens at the mere look in his eyes.

“You now I want you just as much, right?” He asks in his husky voice and I'm kissing him again. It’s absurd how much I want him, really. I plunge my tongue into his warm mouth and he shudders. I like the feeling of him beneath me and I straddle him. His hands slide to my hips and I start moving, but of course this is the moment his goddamn phone rings.

I groan at the sound and pull away, still sitting on him. He looks at me apologetically and I roll off him disappointed. Dammit.

“What?” He answers his phone angrily and then listens. “Yeah I know. I lost time. I know I said at seven. Ok, sorry Sammy, I’ll be there in a few. Fine. Dammit, you’re so annoying! I know, fine.”

He looks at me and I'm sure there’s sadness in his expression.

“I have to go.” He tells me and I nod. “We had to leave two hours ago…”

“Ok.” I nod again. I climb off the bed and pull my jeans on. I won’t make it sentimental. He has to go and I know it. The time’s up.

He dresses up quickly and I lead him out of my room to the front door. He pulls me into a hug and kisses my bare shoulder. I hug him back and I try to hold myself together, but it hurts anyway and I wish he didn’t have to leave. He must’ve read my mind, because the next second he breathes into my neck.

“Dammit Em, I wish I didn’t have to…”

But I cut him off with a quick kiss.

“Don’t say anything else Dean.” I tell him and I smile. “I have no regrets.”

I open the door and he steps out.

“Be safe, ok?” I tell him and he nods. There are so many things we still want to tell each other, but there’s no time for anything else but the goodbye, and apparently I hate goodbyes so I smile at him again and I close the door.

 

/\/\/\

 

As I lie in my bed at night I can’t decide if it has been a good day. It was a very hard day, that’s true, but in a way it was a good day too. It was a bad day because today we buried Brian and that was horrible. I thought Tom and I started to accept his death after the drinking at Hunters’, but apparently I was kidding myself. The funeral was excruciating. I’m always so uneasy with the pain and there was so much pain I was barely holding on, and that was without my own pain of losing my best friend. Almost the entire town gathered for the double funeral – Brian and Dennis were buried at the same time. And almost everyone had tears in their eyes. Emma came to me and cried silently into my chest as I held her and tried to sooth her. Old Mrs. Talbot cried silently as John gave the blessings. Nora sobbed loudly, but the most difficult to bare were two of Dennis’ children who wept the entire time.

John says there’s a great meaning in funerals, they are for saying goodbyes, but I didn’t say goodbye to Brian. Funeral is futile in that sense, to me at least. I didn’t say goodbye, because I’m not ready to do that. I can’t be forced to let go and I won’t. Probably the time will come when I will be ready to accept that my friend is gone and I will move on, but it’s not today and it definitely doesn’t depend on the time Brian’s body gets to be buried. I don’t understand the concept of paying respects too, because I am paying respects by remembering and missing him, not by coming to the funeral. John disagrees and I'm fine with that, but after today I know I hate funerals.

It was also a hard day, because after all this I had to go to work and all I wanted is to go back home, bury my head under my pillow and not to think. I miss Brian, I wish he was alive, I wish there was something I could do.

Everyone who came to the store today spoke to me about how beautiful the funeral was, but I don’t share the sentiment, I resented it, so I had to nod and I lie and agree, because people want to hear that, they want to say goodbye and move on. I don’t know why I am so weird with goodbyes, but to me the end is just very hard to accept. I don’t like the concept of the end, the life, the world should be continuous. That’s why I like stars a guess – they don’t end. Even after they are long gone, the energy, the light perseveres and I draw comfort from that.

Not being the believer I can’t lie to myself and tell myself Brian is in the better place right now, because I don’t think there’s Brian anymore and that hurts. And most of all, I just can’t let go of the fact that it’s just so unfair.

The entire day I was so absorbed in the loss of Brian that I didn’t even think of Dean. Well that’s not entirely truth, my thoughts did wander to him, but I didn’t allow myself think of him. The funeral, the consolation of the others was what mattered, but as I lie in my bed that I shared with him so recently, I find it so hard to fight the thoughts about him off.

He is the reason why this day is not entirely horrible. Yes, letting him go was harder than I ever thought it would be and I feel the loss of him in my chest and the pit of my stomach all the time. But waking up in his arms, feeling him pressed to me, holding me, trailing his fingers down my back is worth every second of the pain I feel at his loss. I wish he didn’t have to leave. I wish he was right here with me, in my bed again, although it’s likely I wouldn’t be thinking any of this if he was. The thought of him touching me again both ignites that fire in me and makes my chest throb painfully. I’ve lost him. He was never mine to begin with, but I still feel I’ve lost him.

I shake my head and I think of sleeping, it’s late and I'm tired. But I don’t want to sleep, sleeping means nightmares and screaming, even though I remember none of it. I remember the bliss of the morning and it’s a painful reminder how alone I am right now, a reminder that there’s no one to wake me from the dreams I have and not remember. I tell myself it doesn’t matter though, because really having him and losing him doesn’t define me. I only had him for few short hours, I can’t let it be the most important thing in my life. It sounds too much like a lie to my tired my and I think that’s the time I drift to sleep.


	8. Moving on

Thursday

I'm at work and I have too much free time on my hands. I don’t like free time, not now anyway, when every free minute I have is spent thinking about him. I try to think about other things, about carpentry, about driving lesson this Sunday, about Emma and even about Brian, but my mind stubbornly wonders back to him. I think of Castiel. I wish I have asked him more about him, a full name maybe? Or how he died… I consider the possibility to call Sheriff Turner and ask to check if there’s a missing person or a notice of death six months ago of someone called Castiel. The name should be rare enough and I know the rough timing and location to narrow it down further, but I'm afraid this will raise questions that I don’t want to answer. I can’t tell anyone Dean told me about Castiel, because as far as my friends and family know I don’t know Dean. Maybe I should tell Sheriff I remembered the name? That ought to be safe enough, but then again it’s a small town and soon everybody will be asking questions and I’ll have to lie. And even more importantly, I’m afraid of what I might find out about this Castiel and what kind of bad choices he had made.

And yet I want to know. Now, that this information is within my reach, I can barely contain myself. I want to know who he was and if there’s a chance he is what I was. There are too many coincidences for him not to be my past, really, but I have read that coincidences do happen. They say coincidences never happen in fiction, because they always have to lead to something, but this is not fiction, this is my life and I still hope that this is just one big string of coincidences. I don’t know why I want Castiel not to have been me, but then again maybe I do. Even from the little Dean had said, Castiel wasn’t a happy man and he seems to have been very lonely in his life. I have a life fool of people I care about and I don’t want to lose it.

I sigh and shake my head when the bell jingles and the next customer comes in.

/\/\/\

Friday

“Son, don’t forget you promised to come to the church on Sunday.” John tells me and I roll my eyes. We’re at my work and John came to take Mark fishing, but he used the opportunity to remind me my promise.

“John, I know I have forgotten a lifetime so probably I shouldn’t be telling you this, but come on! I won’t forget.”

“Yes, yes. Well no harm in reminding you. By the way, I heard you took Emma out couple of days ago. How is it going? All good?”

“You think this is a good time for father – son talk?” I scowl and both John and Mark chuckle.

“I was just wondering, you know. Emma’s a good girl, don’t miss your chance.”

“Come on John, just go already.”

He looks at me funny then. John knows me quite well and I think he can sense something is not quite right, but Mark is here and I'm clearly not in a mood for discussions, so he lets it go.

“Well anyway,” he continues, “you two should go that new movie about space or something. I heard it’s quite good.”

I roll my eyes again.

“I will think about it.” I agree finally and John grins.

“Don’t think too long, you never know when someone snatches your girl. She’s a catch!”

“Oh my God! Will you stop it already? We’ve been on two dates!”

“Language, Emmanuel.” He says evenly and I feel such a kid all of the sudden, but then he smiles again. “Fine, it’s your business; I just want you to be happy.”

/\/\/\

Saturday

I asked Emma out to movies. It more than surely is a mistake, but I can’t stand staying alone anymore. I think about him all the time and I just can’t do it anymore, I need a distraction, even if what I’m doing is very much unfair to Emma. We’ll be going out on Tuesday and Emma’s driving, because I still don’t have my permit. I’ll ask Tom to help me with it, I want to start driving as soon as I can. I feel very grounded without the possibility to drive and it’s really strange, because I never felt this way before. I never really needed to drive, because everything in this town is within walking distance and I never really wanted to get out of the town, but now I feel confined to it and I don’t like the feeling.

I sit carving my ornament into the wooden box and I wonder where he might be this very moment, what he could be doing and whether or not he thinks about me sometimes. I don’t think he does, because this is surely not as new to him as it is to me. He leads this lifestyle of a drifter and I’m sure I'm not the only one he’d left behind when it was time to go, so I don’t have any illusions that I left a lasting impression. It makes my chest throb painfully, but it’s alright, I knew what I was getting into, so now I just need to find the way to move on. I think Emma might be the way, although I know I risk a lot with her, because if it turns out she really isn’t, I will lose a friend and I only have two left so losing one of them is definitely not an option. And still I wonder if he’s alright, if he’s safe and despite everything, if he thinks of me sometimes.

/\/\/\

Sunday

I went to church. John’s sermon was about good byes and letting go. Fitting. I know it was about Brian and Dennis, but I don’t want to let go of Brian, not yet. I do want to let go of Dean. I have to let go, it’s getting ridiculous.

John smiled at me after the sermon. I know he’s happy I came, but I don’t feel good here. Church doesn’t sooth me, it aggravates me and I don’t know why it is, but… I guess I’m just not a churchgoer.

I went to John for our usual dinner, but all through it I was distracted and distant. I told him I was thinking about Brian and also about Tom and our driving, but that’s not it. I'm uneasy for no apparent reason, I'm restless and I can barely concentrate. It’s as if I’m waiting for something to happen, but I don’t know what it is. I have to get a grip before my driving lesson or Tom will kick my ass. I really can’t end up in a ditch.

I called Sheriff today and asked him to check the name Castiel. I said I had a flashback and this is the name I remembered, but I don’t know who he is and why I remembered him. Sheriff promised to check it, but he did mumble he’d like to have a last name too. I would too, for that matter.

Finally I meet Tom at his home and we go for a drive. Before he even lets me come close to his car, I have to listen to all the rules of driving his car, like no ogling at ads, no waving at Emma if by any chance I see her, no singing (and this is ridiculous, I don’t sing) and no bullshit. In all seriousness I ask Tom what does he mean by bullshit, but he rolls his eyes at me and orders me to get into the car already. I laugh as I get in and he growls.

“No laughing too, concentrate Em! Brian told me everything about your driving experiences, so you focus or I swear to God, I’ll kick your ass.”

I laugh again, because I know he’s joking. He joins me for a second, but then composes himself again.

“Ok, really. Concentrate, we’re going out of town today and I want us to make it back unscathed.” He admonishes and I nod seriously.

“Where are we going?” I ask him.

“We’re going to get a decent pizza!” He grins and I start the engine. “Now, just easy, carefully start driving. And don’t forget to look if no one’s coming!”

“Relax, Tom.” I tell him, but I'm far from relaxed. I look carefully before driving out. “We’ve been through this with Brian.”

“You’ve been in a ditch with him too.” He mutters and I roll my eyes.

The drive after that is easy and smooth. I like driving and Tom doesn’t comment much, so I think I'm doing alright. He tells me to watch the side of the road from time to time, but I think it’s because he needs to show me he’s teaching me. I listen and nod and always drive a little straighter after his remarks and he smiles to himself. All in all, it’s a pleasant drive and I'm having loads of fun. And most importantly, I don’t think about Dean. Well, almost.

/\/\/\

Monday

My stomach wound has almost healed. There will definitely be a scar there, but as I told Dean, I don’t mind. I’m weirdly fond of it actually, because it’s a tangible proof I didn’t imagine the whole encounter, I didn’t imagine him – he’s real and it did happen.

Sheriff Turner calls me at work to tell there’s no record of anyone named Castiel that would have disappeared or died in the last year in the USA. I thank him and tell him it must’ve been a false memory or something. Or maybe it wasn’t me I was remembering and Sheriff is sympathetic and promises to help me out if I remember anything else. I thank him again and hang up. I’m surprised though – why didn’t anyone report his death? Didn’t he have anyone in his life? Why didn’t Dean report it? It’s so strange, I was afraid to find out too much, but this lack of any information unhinges me even more. Who was he? What happened to him and why doesn’t anyone look for him?

/\/\/\

Tuesday

It’s nearly time for Emma to pick me up and I’m a bit restless. I still think it’s a mistake I’m making, but I don’t let myself dwell on that too much, because I know I won’t change it. I'm going out with Emma and that’s that. It’s been almost a week since he left and I need to move on with my life, because I won’t let those few short hours I had with him define me.

And yet I know those few short hours changed me. I never felt bored here before – I was fully content to live this small town life, work at the store, do some carpentry, sometimes get out with friends. Now I can’t stop thinking how uneventful my life is. I get up, take a shower, walk to work, work, go for groceries, eat, sleep and then start again. When I think of it, and now I do think of it, it’s so numbingly boring I want to do anything it takes to change it. I think I just need a distraction, something new in my life and I’ll be alright again. Or maybe I just want him.

I shake my head as I hear a knock on my door.

We drive to the cinema in the next town and on our way we chat about our everyday lives. Emma tells me how’s the car fixing going. She likes some kind of old rusty car that needs a lot of work done and I try to concentrate through all this, but I really know nothing about cars and I can’t tell they excite me that much. The only thing that’s exciting about the car is its speed. I like driving fast, that made Brian positively mad, but he sometimes did allow me to knock myself out. His car wasn’t very fast though… If I could afford it, I’d buy sports car. Driving fast is like flying and although I of course don’t know what flying feels like, I think it’s similar and I enjoy it immensely. I tell Emma about wanting a fast car and she just scoffs at me. I think Emma and Dean would hit it off; they are very much alike when I think of it. That’s not the thought I like to entertain though, so I brush it off.

The movie we came out to see is some kind of science fiction movie with horror elements. Emma hates chick flicks and I like her very much for that. We both enjoy the movie although as many others of this genre it’s kind of foolish. We laugh a lot though and I notice people staring at us. It ought to be scary movie of sorts, but we’re having way too much fun for it to be scary, so we just whisper to each other all the things that make the movie funny and we laugh silently. We kiss a lot too, but come to think of it, it’s only expected in the movies, isn’t it? I enjoy kissing her, I don’t think about anything else as I move my lips across hers and I can see it excites her. I don’t feel the rush, the hunger I felt with Dean, but maybe that’s ok. Maybe this is real, maybe this is how it should be. I let myself get lost in the comforting and soothing feeling of Emma in my arms, her lips on mine and I really like it.

After the movie, we grab some hotdogs and beers and sit in the park eating, drinking and talking about every insignificant detail of our daily lives. I think how being here with Emma grounds me, gives me comfort and relief and I'm happy I’m here with her. It’s not the same as with Dean, it never will be, but perhaps that’s alright, perhaps I can get used to that.

“Em, I was thinking of throwing a party next weekend.” Emma says suddenly.

“Yeah? Any particular reason?” I ask.

“Well, it’s my birthday for one,” she smiles, “and it’s the first time I actually feel like celebrating.”

“Then you should definitely do it.”

“Will you come?”

“Of course.” I smile at her. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason. I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to have this awkward ‘where is this going?’ kind of conversation, you know, but I really like you. And I like spending time with you. You’re a great guy, so I just… I don’t know… I guess what I'm trying to say is I like you.”

I kiss her, but as I do so, I feel a twinge of guilt twisting my insides. Surely this isn’t fair to her – I don’t know if I will be able to be with her, if this feeling of comfort I feel around her will be enough and doesn’t that make me a jerk? But then again, it’s been three dates… Am I expected to know by now if what we have here is going to last? I don’t know what’s appropriate or expected in the dating world, because honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing.

“Emma, I… You’re my friend, you know that, right?” I ask her finally and she nods. “Good. And I also like spending time with you and I really enjoy our dates, but I can’t have where it is going conversation now, because I just don’t know. I don’t know if it’s acceptable or not and I’m sorry if I am supposed to know by now, but I just don’t. I want to keep doing this though and I hope you do too, but I’m not ready for any big promises or something like that.”

Emma looks at me for a while longer and then laughs silently.

“Oh my God, I just went all chick-flick on you, didn’t I? Sorry Em, you’re right of course! It’s stupid really to be talking about any of this now… I guess since we know each other for a longer time, I just got messed up in my head, but really, it’s absurd, we shouldn’t be having any of these conversations any time soon.”

“You don’t mind?” I ask her a bit cautiously.

“Nah, I’m good. I don’t know what happened here, sorry about that.”

I grin at her and kiss her again. “We should be getting back, it’s late and your dad is going to kill me if you don’t get home in respectable hour.”

“I think you’re safe on that account, my dad likes you.”

“I’m sure John has something to do with that, he’s been speaking up for me since I came.”

“No, I think you impressed dad when he came over to pick an axe and you convinced him the one with narrower blade was better. I’ve never seen Mark convince my dad to buy something he hasn’t set his mind on. I think there’s history of bad purchase there… Anyway, he gave you the benefit of the doubt and it turned out you were right. So according to my dad you can be trusted.” She laughs and I join in. Suddenly she deepens her voice in imitation of her dad:

“That Emmanuel of yours is good with tools. Man’s gotta be good with tools.”

“I’m glad he never heard me talking about cars then!” I’m still laughing, but Emma looks at me horrified.

“Oh, no, no, no! You can never let him hear what you think of cars! If he asks anything about cars – better say you don’t remember and it’s such a shame that you don’t. All you know is you like American muscle cars and don’t get the foreign tiny cars and you’ll be good.”

“So if I tell him I actually want a foreign sports car, he won’t let me see you again?” I grin.

“Well, that! Or he’ll disown me when I refuse!”

We’re still laughing and joking as we get back to Emma’s car.

Once we’re at my place I deliberate a second on whether or not I should invite Emma. From the way she looks at me, I surmise she would want me too, but I’m hesitant, because this could be complicated. I don’t want to rush things with Emma, not while I still think of Dean that much, not while I can’t help comparing. I mean I do want to ask her in – she’s a beautiful girl and I do like her, but it’s just too soon and our friendship means more to me than that. So instead of inviting her, I kiss her for a long while and then I try not to see her disappointment when I say good night. She takes hold of herself pretty quickly and soon she’s smiling and wishing me a good night too.

Later I sit on the couch watching TV and I can’t help thinking I should have invited her in. My motives for not doing so are still valid and I’m kind of glad I didn’t, but at the same time I can’t help feeling a bit lonely here. There’s nothing good on TV, it’s really late, but I don’t want to sleep, so I just sit silently, trying to concentrate on what’s happening in the show I’m watching. I think I dozed off for a moment there, but I’m woken up by the knock on my door. It’s a silent knock, so I must not have been sleeping for long for it to wake me. I go to the door wondering who might it be and I’m almost sure it’s John, because who else could be coming here at 1 am?

I open the door and I’m surprised, because it’s not John.

No, I suppose surprised is not a word strong enough to convey the rush of emotions running through me once I open the door, but for a lack of better word, I’m surprised, because it’s not John, it’s Dean.


	9. Head in the game

I stare at Dean for a long while, trying to make sure I’m not dreaming and it’s really him. It takes me some time, but he just stands there, his eyes fixed on mine and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. I let out the sigh of relief I had no idea I was holding. And really I’m so relieved to see him – not only because I just  physically can’t stop thinking about him, but also because he’s alright, he’s safe.

Finally, I pull myself together and without saying a word I step aside to let him in. He doesn’t say anything as well as he brushes past me to get inside. I close the door and turn around to look at him. I can see he’s standing too close to me. He’s not in my bubble precisely, but that’s just because my bubble is really tiny. I think I’m in his bubble though, because there’s definitely not a counter width space between us. He doesn’t move, he just stares at me silently and I know he’s giving me a chance to pull back. Instead, I take another step towards him and now he’s in my bubble too. He lets out a shaky breath and he grips my arm and pulls me the rest of the way to him. His lips are on mine the same instant and his tongue is probing intently. I don’t hesitate – I open my mouth invitingly and I sneak my arms around his waist. There’s a fire raging through me, scorching me, but I concentrate on the feeling of his tongue inside my mouth, licking me, tasting me, claiming me. His mouth is warm and wet and sweet and I can’t think about anything else except the way he feels on me. He trails his kisses down my jaw and I realize he’s talking between the kisses and licks, but it’s so hard to concentrate when all I can do is to hold on to the fire raging in me.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week…” He mutters nipping at my neck and sliding his hands under my T-shirt. “All fucking week, Emmanuel. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think straight… I kept remembering you moaning into my fucking mouth.”

His mouth is on mine then and I sure as hell moan into his mouth again. It’s so hot and I’m so hard and dammit if I can control any of it. Dean growls into my mouth and pulls me even closer to him. I can feel his cock throbbing in his pants against my thigh and I want him so badly. I start unbuttoning one of his shirts and he suddenly presses me hard against the door.

“All the fucking week, Em.” He repeats between kisses and he tugs at my T-shirt, yanking it up. I raise my hands up and he removes it. The next moment his lips are on me, trailing kisses down my chest, licking my nipple on the way. I whimper at his touch, but he holds me tightly, sucking and licking and still talking in between.

“Even on the job I couldn’t stop thinking… about you responding the way… you do to my every touch and every move… I can’t afford to lose concentration on the job, and yet you are all… I… could think of.”

His lips trail my almost healed gash on the stomach and the next second he’s on his knees and he’s unbuckling my belt.

“The things I want to do to you, Em…” He drawls and I shiver at the unspoken promise. He pulls my pants and boxers down and my cock springs out of them hard and leaking with pre-cum. He hums appreciatively at the sight and the next moment I feel his mouth on my cock and it takes all I have not to let my knees buckle. I whimper loudly at the feeling of his wet and hot mouth on me, but the next second I almost shout out when he hollows his cheeks and starts sucking. My mind gets fuzzy and I can’t form a decent thought anymore. I just let myself feel his hand gripping the base of my cock and moving in the rhythm of his sucking. I can’t take it for very long and soon I start moaning and writhing. He grips my hip steadying me, but his rhythm never waivers. I feel my eyes roll up and I try to pull back.

“Dean… I… I can’t… I’m so close…” I mumble almost incoherently, but he understands nevertheless, because the next second his other hand grips my hip and he holds me firmly, not allowing me to move an inch. Few more feverish pumps later I come so hard my vision actually whites out for a moment there, but I still feel him swallowing around me, moving with me through the heights of my orgasm until slowly, finally, I come down. He releases me then and I almost fall down to my knees, my arms around his neck pulling him into a hard kiss. His mouth feels raw and tender and there’s a salty bitter taste in it which I understand is my come and yet this kiss is the best yet and I chuckle silently into his mouth.

“Been thinking about doing this the entire drive here.” He mutters as I pull back to draw breath.

“I take it, it was a fun drive?” I ask smiling at him and he cocks his eyebrow. “How about you come in and I’ll take care of you?” I offer, because I realize we’re kneeling at the front door.

He grins at that and nods.

“Yeah, ok. But could I use your shower first? I’ve been driving for almost 18 hours, I really need a shower.”

I stand up, pull my pants on and lead him to the kitchen.

“How about this then,” I get a sandwich I brought for my dinner yesterday and a bottle of beer from the fridge and put it in front of him, “I bet you’re hungry, so why don’t you eat this and I’ll get you fresh towel, so you can shower?”

“You’re awesome, dude!” He grins and takes a long swig from the bottle. In the mean time I look out of the window and frown.

“Where’s your car?”

“I left it at the motel. I figured it’s a small town, people notice stranger cars in small towns and I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I booked a room and left my car there. I’m sure my baby’s safe there.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” I tell him and he grins before tearing the mouthful of the sandwich. “Ok, you eat and I go get you a towel.”

But as I head to my bedroom something he said tugs at me. I look back.

“You booked a room in the motel? You mean you’re not staying for the night?”

I wait for him to swallow before he can answer.

“I didn’t want to presume, you know.” He says at last. “Plus, you kind of have to book a room if you want to park a car there… Anyway, I’d like to stay if… if that’s ok with you I mean.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” I smile and head to fetch that towel for him.

When he gets out of the shower I’m sitting on the couch with the bottle of my own beer and watching some kind of an old movie Brian would undoubtedly call classics although I'm sure it’s not. It’s with that strange Schwarzenegger dude anyway and he’s some kind of the machine I guess. It’s utterly stupid, but surprisingly entrancing. I tear my gaze off the screen to look at Dean as he moves almost soundlessly to me. He looks fresh and relaxed with his T-shirt and jeans and wet hair and bare feet. To me he looks amazing. He sits next to me, close enough that our knees touch. He takes the bottle of beer I put there for him and takes a swig.

“You came back.” I tell him calmly and he chuckles.

“Were you expecting me to stay in the shower?”

I roll my eyes and he sighs.

“Yeah, I came back.” He finally mutters.

“I didn’t think you would, but I'm glad you did.” I say, but stop right there. I don’t want to go deeper in this – I’m not delusional enough to kid myself he came back to stay, I know he’ll be leaving again soon, but just like the last time, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m happy he’s here now and that’s all that matters. I think he’s thinking along the same lines, because he pulls me closer to him and kisses me. He smells of my soap and shampoo and his tongue tastes of toothpaste, but behind it all he still tastes like him. There’s no heat in this kiss, it’s more about comfort and relief of being close again. He releases my mouth, but pulls me against him still as he leans back into the couch. I sigh contentedly and smile to myself.

“What?” He asks.

“You’re smothering me with your cuddliness.” I laugh silently and he scowls, but doesn’t let go of me so I continue, “I not so secretly like it.”

He doesn’t say anything, just runs his fingers up and down my arm absent mindedly so I change the subject.

“How did your job go? With leviathans?”

“Ok, I guess. We didn’t get much, just the glimpses. I still don’t know what they’re planning to do, they are really well organized, careful sons of bitches…” and then he adds as in the afterthought, “I did manage to get into a huge fight with my brother though.”

“Why’s that? What happened?”

“I was distracted on the job. He noticed my head was elsewhere and he’s such a prying dick sometimes… Anyway, it was a tense drive back to Bobby’s.”

“Who’s Bobby?”

“He’s… Bobby’s family, he’s like a second father to me and Sammy. Anyway, I left him there and came to see you.”

“So… Distracted?”

Dean chuckles silently at that.

“Yeah, you’re kind of a bad influence on me, you know? I mean on the job I have to be focused, head in the game, but this time… Dammit, I could barely concentrate. And Sam… He’s smart you know? Scares me how smart he is sometimes. He knew I was not on my best and of course he started whining and prying and all… Anyway, it got nasty soon enough.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault really, all me.” He mutters and plants a chaste kiss on top of my head. I have to restrain myself from actually nuzzling into him. “Never happened before though… And really, not a big deal, we weren’t even doing anything, just watching, so no harm no foul. Except Sammy made a big deal out of it and I just snapped…” Dean sighs at that and the yawns tiredly. “Anyway, I just hate having fights with him, you know? He doesn’t feel that well lately… He’s a bit sick and I’m kind of pissed at myself for having snapped.”

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask him and I can see at once he doesn’t want to talk about that. His body tenses and his expression is more guarded than I have ever seen.

“He doesn’t sleep well.” He says and there’s finality in his tone so I don’t push it.

“You sound very tired too, you know? Maybe we should just go to sleep?”

“Nah, let’s just watch the freakin’ Terminator first. I don’t think I can sleep just yet.”

I nod and we watch the movie for some time. It’s ridiculous how good I feel with him here, how safe and right it feels. I mean I barely know him and the little that I do know makes him even stranger than I am, but him being here… My home feels more like a home than ever before and I love it.

“You know, it’s weird how you always manage to get me on or after my date.” I tell him after a while. “Perhaps I should date more?”  
He chuckles and then asks.

“You were on a date tonight? With Emma?”

“Yeah.”

“Third date?”

“Yes.” It’s a strange question, but his next question surprises me even more.

“Why isn’t she here then?”

“Should she be?”

“Well, you know, third date.”

This conversation is getting bizarre.

“Ok, I think I’ll save us both the trouble and just tell you – no, I don’t know. Why should she be here and what does that have to do with the third date?”

“Oh come on Em! Don’t you tell me you don’t know the third date rule?”

“What’s up with dates and rules?” I ask bewildered and exasperated. “Is there a memo somewhere? I think I need to go through it!”

He laughs at that.

“So tell me, what’s the rule? What did I mess up this time?”

“Well, if the dating is going alright, you’re supposed to get laid after third date.”

“Oh… That’s… I didn’t know that.” That does explain a lot, I think.

Dean chuckles again.

“Hmmm, at least you got laid…” He smiles.

“Aren’t you supposed to get laid with the person you’re actually dating?” My lips twitch with a smile.

“You, apparently, aren’t.”

“Well, then I actually got laid after my second date. Does that make you easy?”

“Hell yeah! More often than not I get lucky during my first date.”

I wrinkle my nose at that.

“That’s a bit of information I could’ve done without.”

“Jealous about my dating expertise? I can get a chick on my first date, you apparently can’t even after your third.”

“Hmm…” I mumble, “you can get a guy without even bothering to date. I guess that makes me easy.”

“Or it makes me that good.” He says with the grin.

“Or that.” I agree thoughtfully. Now when I think of it, it does make me very easy, doesn’t it?

“Hey, don’t go there, Em.” He says and he’s lifting my chin so I meet his eyes. He plants a soft kiss on my lips and I nod.

“I don’t recognize myself when I'm with you.” I tell him. “It’s odd, you know? How much I want you. Or isn’t it? I mean I don’t have much experience that I remember… Is it usual to want someone you don’t even know that much?”

“It’s a tough question Em. I don’t know, I guess sometimes you just click and then it doesn’t matter how much you know. Hell, maybe it’s even better not to know, because then there’s no baggage… Anyway, it’s turning into a touchy – feely moment and I don’t do touchy – feely. How ‘bout we go to sleep?”

“Yeah, ok.” I stand up and take his hand to pull him up. He doesn’t let go of my hand and neither do I, so I just turn off the TV and lead him to my bedroom. Once there we shrug off our jeans and climb to my bed. He pulls me into his arms just like the last time and kisses me. I can see he’s too tired for anything else than those slow and lazy kisses, so I don’t initiate anything as well. I do kiss him for a long time, before I slide down and rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady and I relax completely. I don’t think it takes more than two minutes for us to get to sleep.

/\/\/\

Wednesday

For the second time in my life I wake up slowly and peacefully. I can’t fool myself anymore – it’s definitely because Dean’s here. Before I knew him and ever since he left I woke up with the start and usually a scream, but today it’s slow and easy and all in all peaceful. I can see he’s sleeping soundly, but even in his sleep he’s holding me close to him and I’m all wrapped around him.

I untangle myself from him slowly, trying not to wake him. He’s so peaceful in his sleep, he seems so much younger now. I brush a light kiss at his lips and slide out of bed. I pull up my jeans and head to the kitchen to make some coffee and breakfast.

When I’m done, he’s still asleep and I nearly have to go to work, so I go back to my bedroom to wake him up. He’s lying on his stomach now, sprawled across the bed and I want to think he was reaching for me in his sleep. I smile at that and climb into my bed again. I lean over him and start trailing kisses down his neck and back, holding my weight with my arms, trying not to fall on him. I lick my way across his shoulder blades, nipping at his skin, tasting it. I can feel he’s starting to stir beneath me, but I continue kissing and licking every inch of his back. When I reach his boxers I think about pulling them away for a second, but decide to leave it for later and rather go down to suck and nip at his inner thighs. He shivers at that and I know he’s awake, but he doesn’t say anything and I continue tasting him and memorizing all of him. I find out the backs of his knees are ticklish, but the sides are very sensitive and he all but whimpers when I run my tongue at them. I find out he likes it when I bite him gently or suck on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He turns to face me then and I meet his gaze for a second. His eyes a clouded, pupils blown and I think I mirror his expression quite well. I tear my eyes off of his and I carry on kissing him, slowly going up his body. I neglect the bulge in his boxers for the time being, because I know if I lay my mouth on it, I won’t be able to carry on exploring. Instead I mouth the jut of his hipbone through the soft fabric and bite into it. He shudders at that and I run my tongue around his belly button. Once again I notice his abs are astonishing and I take my time running my lips and tongue across them. As I move up, I suck his nipple into my mouth and start teasing the already hard nub with my tongue and my teeth. I concentrate on his response to all I’m doing, because I want to know what he likes, what he enjoys. I have no experience of this, none that I can remember and so his every move and whimper is golden to me. I run my tongue across his tattoo marveling how his skin feels different there. It's the first time I see it up close and suddenly it hits me. I sit up and stare at that tattoo, tracing its contours with my fingertips.

"Your tattoo..." I mutter. "What is it?"

He looks at me surprised by the sudden change of pace.

"Um... It's a protection tattoo. It guards me against demons."

"Demons?" I ask startled, but then I can't hold back a bubble of laughter building in me.

"People don't exactly react to knowing there are demons in this world by laughing at that." He frowns, but I can see he's amused.

"That's not why I'm laughing." I tell him with a smile. "I'm laughing because just last week I finished making a breadbox for John with this precise design on it. So I guess his breadbox is now officially demon free."

"You made a breadbox with my tattoo on it?" He asks incredulously.

"Yes, well, I didn't know it was your tattoo or what it meant. I must've seen it somewhere before and it stuck in my head, so I carved it on the box."

"Yeah, you must've..." He mutters thoughtfully, but I'm done with talking. I was on the way of doing something much more enjoyable than talking anyway. I bend down and lick his tattoo once again, before I finally reach his collarbone and dammit do I like this bone! I suck on it, quite forcefully really, leaving a bruise there and it’s strangely satisfying. He actually moans at that and I lower my body further, so now I’m lying on him as I kiss and bite at his neck. I trail the kisses up his jaw to his lips and as I crush my mouth to his, I rock my hips into his and that little friction of our cocks grinding together clouds my mind entirely. I think it does the same to him, because he growls in my mouth, grabs my hips and rocks us against each other again.

“Wait, wait…” I pant and move slightly away. He hisses under his breath, but I cut him off. “I want to…”

I hook my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pull them down. I nudge his legs apart then and position myself between them. I look at his eyes and he’s looking at me transfixed.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I tell him breathlessly, “so you tell me if it’s not right or you want it differently, ok?”

He just nods and I think he’s pretty much speechless. I concentrate on what he did last night, what I liked, how he did it and what I want to do to him. I grip the base of his cock tightly and swirl my tongue around its head.  He’s salty and a little bitter but most of all it tastes of Dean and that’s the taste I love. I swirl my tongue once again and dip it at the slit. Dean actually whimpers and the sound goes straight to my own dick. I’m hard and hot, but I concentrate on Dean. I lick my lips and I suck in the head of his cock. I start pumping him with my hand, steady slow rhythm. At the same time I start sucking and with each thrust of my hand I take more of him into my mouth. I realize it’s a bit messy and I don’t think there should be so much saliva, but I just love the feeling of him in my mouth so hard and hot and so… Him. I speed up then and I’m taking so much of him in, that the head of his cock hits the back of my throat with every thrust. I feel so full of him and that feeling is amazing. I can feel Dean’s hands in my hair, but he doesn’t push me or guide me, he just moans loudly so I think I’m doing it right. I speed up even further and try to put as much pressure with my tongue as I can. With my other hand I cup his balls and start massaging his perineum, my fingers inching closer, feeling the puckered skin there. He gasps at that and just a few thrusts later he’s trying to push me off.

“Em… Fuck, Em, I’m so close…” He pants, but I don’t let him push me off and I don’t stop. Instead I look up at him, because I want to see his face, his eyes when he loses control and comes. He fixes his eyes on mine and I can feel it building in him, I can feel his body start to shudder, his hips buck involuntarily although he’s trying to keep them still and then his come fills my mouth and I hum around him as I swallow, still stroking him and licking him. He breathes out my name and I finally release him. I wonder if I had been a teenager, would I have come in my pants from the look when he came alone… I probably would have.

I climb up his body and lie on his side, kissing his shoulder gently.

“Good morning.” I mumble with a smile and he grins back.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘good morning’ me after we’re done.” He growls and moves suddenly to straddle me. “How’s that you’re in jeans?” He wonders but doesn’t let me reply, because his mouth is on mine and he’s fumbling with the zipper of my jeans. He moves back and yanks my jeans off along with my underwear. He looks at me for a long moment, as if trying to take me in. I stare at him just the same and honestly, he’s just ridiculously good looking! Finally, he crawls back on me and sucks on my neck. He brings up his palm to my mouth and murmurs into my ear. “Lick.”

I do as he says – I run my tongue across his hand and I feel him shudder. He pulls his palm away and grips my cock tightly in his slicked hand. I moan at the contact and he catches my moan with his mouth. He starts moving his hand up and down, slowly, agonizingly so. I buck into it, trying to speed him up and he chuckles into my mouth. He does speed up though and soon I start whimpering and thrashing beneath him. The ball of fire in my stomach blazes again as my orgasm builds up and I feel it’s ready to scorch me. I concentrate on the feeling of Dean’s touch and his lips on me rather than the fire, but it intensifies further and I’m torn between pleasure and pain. I whimper and moan and with the last effort I manage to catch that fire before it scalds me and finally there’s no pain, just the pleasure intensified by the burn in me. I come shouting his name and in the height of it all I hear him whispering “I’ve got you…” and I know he does.


	10. Walk of Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's reading the story - sorry for such a delay in posting this! I promise to do better, I have couple of chapters almost done and I'll try to post them every week, 'try' being a key word here... I'll do my best anyway.  
> Back to the story - hope you enjoy it ;)

Wednesday

“Can you take a day off?” He asks as he sips the coffee. We’re sitting in my kitchen having breakfast.

I think for a moment and the shake my head regretfully. “I could call in sick, but then the third of the town would come over to see if I’m ok…”

“Freakin’ small towns.”

“Yeah… When do you have to leave?” I ask even though I really don’t want to know. No, that’s not truth, I just don’t want him to leave.

“I promised Sam I’d be back tomorrow.”

“Oh…” It’s too soon, unbelievably so, but I won’t say that. I won’t make it any harder than it already is. So I smile. “Ok, then we’ve still got today and tonight. How about this – I go to work and think of something so that Mark gives me afternoon off. On my way home I can grab some take out and we can have lunch here. And then maybe watch more movies or something?”

“Hmm… I like the lunch part as long as you’re getting a pie,” he chuckles, “but after we can maybe go out? I mean weren’t you saying I never took you out? We could fix that. Not in town, of course, your girlfriend probably wouldn’t be thrilled to find out, but there’s a half decent bar in Beloit. We could, I don’t know, grab couple of beers, play some pool maybe?”

“Emma’s not my girlfriend.” I correct him automatically and see his lips twitch with suppressed smile. “And you don’t have to take me on a date, we already got laid.”

“Come on, man!”

“Last time I got out to a bar, I got attacked by a monster.” I scowl.

“Yeah, but this time you’d be going out with a hunter!” He smiles proudly and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Fine, let’s go to a bar… Anyway, I really have to go now.” I tell him and hand him a spare key. “Make yourself at home, but if you need to leave, lock up, ok?”

“I think I’ll just wait here.” He says, pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I can taste the coffee on his tongue and it feels so very comforting, I can’t hold back a contented sigh.

“I’m glad you came back.” I whisper resting my forehead against his. Then I pull away, wink at him and leave the house.

 

 

“I can’t believe you convinced me…” I mumble as we sit down with our beers at the table. We’re in Beloit and the bar is called Hog’s Tail. Absurd. “It’s like the first time Brian took me out to Hunters’.”

“Come on! It’s ok here!”

“I don’t know anybody here… It’s just like then. I’m not used to not knowing anyone.”

“Ok, but the difference is you don’t have to get to know everyone.” He smiles at me. “You’re a drifter here.”

I take a swig of my beer and think about that for a minute. It’s strange how much I got used to knowing everyone and it’s stranger still that I’m almost frightened being outside of the confines of my town. Dean nudges my knee with his.

“Relax, Em. You know me.”

I smile at him, nod and take another swig of my beer.

“So you like this kind of bars?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess I do. I had this friend, Ellen… She was more of my father’s friend so she felt she had to take care of Sammy and me, you know? Anyway, she had this bar, Roadhouse. The hunters from all over the place would go there… Kind of like a home base or something. It was a bar just like this one, but it was nothing like it too.”

“Was?”

“Yeah… It got burnt. Hunter’s lifestyle doesn’t really allow you to have something, you know? There is always something that wants to rip whatever you have from you. Ellen lost her husband, her bar, her daughter and finally her life. And it’s just how the things go for the likes of me…”

I can feel his pain again and it hurts me too. I wish desperately there was something I could do for him, something I could say to make him feel better.

“You’ve got your brother though… It has to count for something.” I try.

“Yeah, I’ve got Sammy and he’s got me. And every fucking monster tried to use that against us. I’ve lost Sam countless times and now…” He stops abruptly and looks at me as if he had revealed too much. I frown and he composes himself visibly, as if a mask that just slid down was shoved back in place. “You know what? I think we’ve had enough of this emo chitchat! I’ll get us more beer and let’s try to actually have fun here.”

I know I could push him, try to get it out of him, whatever it is that he’s so frightened of, but I decide not to. It’s his choice – when and if he’s ready, he will tell me himself. So I nod and he waves at the waitress.

“Well hello here!” The waitress drawls, her eyes darting up and down Dean’s body. “What can I get you two?”

“How ‘bout you get us more beers, sweetheart?” Dean replies in his husky voice that makes the shiver go down my spine and then gives her his most charming smile. I tilt my head looking at him. This smile is completely different from the one he usually gives me – this one feels like a show and nothing more. The waitress doesn’t see it that way, though. She blushes and mumbles, “Sure, give me a sec…” and stumbles away. I can’t help but chuckle at that. Dean cocks his eyebrow at me.

“I can see how you get lucky on your first date. You pushed that poor girl into the overdrive!”

“What can I say? I’m adorable!” He grins and I laugh.

“You’re not adorable, you’re ridiculously hot!”

He chokes on his beer and coughs, but I can see the blush tinting his cheeks as he looks at me wide eyed.

“And now you’re adorable.” I laugh and he laughs with me.

“Em, do you play pool?” He asks me after a while and I shake my head.

“There’s no pool table at Hunters’ so I’ve never really tried. I might have played before and it might be like a bicycle thing, you know where they say if you know how to ride it, you always do no matter how long you didn’t ride one, but I don’t remember. By the way – either bicycle thing doesn’t really work despite everyone saying it does or I never learnt to ride one.”

“You don’t know how to ride a bike?”

“I do now… After the “Em, let’s go touring” fiasco, Emma and Tom actually taught me to ride it.”

He grins.

“Tell me about ‘Em, let’s go touring’ fiasco.”

“It’s stupid, really.” I scowl. “Tom and Emma like bikes, they go touring every once in a while and generally, they move around town on bikes. It was one of those times they wanted to go touring and Emma insisted I went with them. I told them I had no bike and no idea of how to freakin’ ride one, but of course they gave me the whole ‘once a rider, always a rider’ nonsense, leant me a bike and before I knew it, I was trying to ride it. After almost an hour of trying and failing and falling a lot, they finally gave up. The consensus was I never learnt, but I don’t know… I mean I don’t know anyone who doesn’t know how to ride a bike. I should have known how to do it, but I just didn’t. Maybe it’s just the quirks of my amnesia… Anyway, after that they decided to teach me and couple of days later I was riding it with Emma.”

Dean laughs.

“Your girlfriend sure is dedicated!”

“Emma’s not my girlfriend.”

“Come on Em! She’s a girl, you date her, she’s your friend and she wants to get into your bed. In my books that’s girlfriend.”

I do my doggy tilt of a head.

“Your logic is faulty.” I tell him evenly.

“How’d you figure?”

“Because according to your logic, you’re my boyfriend.”

For the second time this evening he chokes on his beer and I laugh.

“Don’t worry Dean. I don’t think I’m clingy type, I won’t hold you to it.”

“You’re a smartass, you know that?”

“Well, you kind of got into that yourself.” I laugh again and this time he chuckles with me. “Don’t worry, really. I’m not delusional and I won’t have stupid ideas. You leave, it’s over.”

He looks at me for a long while then.

“Em, give me your number.” He finally says and I stare at him. I hadn’t expected that.

“Are you planning to come back?” I ask him just like the last time. And just like the last time he’s silent for a long time. I smile at him. “I’d rather not.”

“Em…”

“Dean, it’s ok.”

“No, it fucking isn’t!” He hisses. “Em, look, I don’t want to give you promises, because sometimes, and really almost all the times, I have no control over them. I can’t promise you to come back…”

“Hey, I know that. It’s fine, really. I don’t expect you to promise me anything.”

“Yes, but what I’m saying is that if I can, I will come back! The idea of not seeing you again drives me crazy. I want to come back…”

I can feel my face split into a huge grin and he gives me the smile I associate with him – real and honest.

“I’ll give you my number.” I finally tell him and he laughs.

“This was no doubts the hardest I had to work to get a number! And you were worried you were easy…”

“What can I say? I draw a line at numbers. Sex is fine, but giving out numbers is a no!” I laugh.

“Ok, smartass, let’s go see if you know how to play pool.”

 

 

It takes us an hour to concede that yes, I do know how to play pool, but no, I really shouldn’t. Not with him anyway. Dean went through the rules and general tips of how to play and it seemed pretty straight forward to me. You hit the white ball aiming it at colored balls that should go into the pockets. Physics and geometry, easy.

Except in an hour we also concede neither of us is too good at playing it together. I mean honestly, can there be anything as distracting as a guy you really, really want splayed on the table in front of you?

My hands itch the entire time I’m looking at him and I can barely keep them at my sides. Ten minutes in the game he notices the effect he has on me and I swear he’s doing it on purpose, teasing me mercilessly while I try to pull myself together. Not only do I have to endure the sight of him leaning on the table, legs wide for better stance, tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, but I also have to actually try making a shot as he leans over me showing me how to hold the cue, curling his fingers on mine and breathing into my ear. After couple of atrociously failed shots I decide to play by his rules. When he’s getting ready to make a shot, I lean over him, my body pressed to his and mutter in my huskiest voice into his ear.

“I want to see how you do it… You’re so good at it, aren’t you?” I’m rewarded with the shot so bad it’s amazing. And a couple of choice swear words. I chuckle and he fixes his eyes on mine. We’re so on.

“I’m never ever taking you hustling.” He mumbles an hour later, when we sit at the table again.

“You hustle?” I ask.

“Sometimes. You can shoot decently, could be actually good, but I'm never taking you.”

“Distraction?” I grin.

“Damn torture!” He hisses. “Dammit Em, I’m this close to dragging you to the bathroom stall right now.”

I laugh at that but at the same time I think I might not have minded that much to be dragged. And since apparently I’m doing this all ‘live in a moment’ thing with him, I mutter: “Don’t see what’s stopping you.”

I swear he actually whimpers at that.

“For a guy who’s uncomfortable in a strange bar, you sure are forward.”

“You said to concentrate on you. I’m just doing that. Apparently concentrating on you is… arousing.”

“Jesus freakin’…” He mutters. “Finish your beer and we’re out of here or I swear I’ll jump you right here.”

In the end we don’t even make it back to my home that night. We stop at his motel to leave the car, but before we know it we’re both naked in his motel room, panting and moaning and thrusting against each other until finally we come shouting each other’s names.

 

 

Thursday

“So I suppose today I’ll get to experience what ‘walk of shame’ is.” I grin, staring at the ceiling. I woke up couple of minutes ago with Dean’s arm resting across my chest, his face hidden in the pillow. He snaps his head up and looks at me curiously.

“How on earth do you not know what third date rule is, but know about the walk of shame?” He asks incredulously.

“Brian.” I chuckle. “He told me that if I ever got a chance to get laid on my first date, I should bring the girl to my house or I’ll get to do the whole ‘walk of shame’ thing.”

Dean laughs at that.

“It’s for one night stands, not for first dates.”

“No, Brian said it’s for first dates.”

“Did Brian ever actually get laid on his first date? And did he even have one night stand?”

“It depends on whom you ask.” I laugh. “Brian would have told you he had plenty of both, but I’m pretty sure Tom would give you a resounding ‘no’ on both accounts.”

“Ok, then Brian doesn’t get to have an opinion on this. Walk of shame – and seriously, it’s absurd, there’s no shame involved anyway – is for one night stands. You are not that.” He kisses the corner of my mouth lightly.

“No?” I ask staring into his eyes. Dean rolls on top of me, pinning me to the bed without breaking the stare. I spread my legs a bit wider to accommodate him better.

“No, you are definitely not a one time thing, Em.”

“Ok.” I say and run my hands down his sides, resting them on his hips. “Because I seriously like waking up with you.”

“Waking up? You go with waking up?” He laughs. “Dammit, I thought my technique might lack a little, I mean I'm not exactly used to being with a guy, but that’s a blow!”

“Your technique is amazing.” I counter with a grin. “There’s still a lot I want to try, but the experience so far was nothing but pleasurable.”

“Yeah? And what do you want to try?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“You’re sidetracking me. I was talking about waking up. I like waking up with you, because I don’t have nightmares when I’m with you. And that’s something I really, really like.”

“Hmm… I don’t have nightmares when I'm with you too.”

“Do you have nightmares often?” I ask.

“Too often for my liking. Not every night though.”

“What are they about? Do you remember?”

“Yeah, I remember, but I don’t want to talk about that. These are just the dreams, echoes, they can’t reach me anymore.”

“No, they can’t.” I agree and kiss him.

“So what about those things you want to try?” He asks smiling again.

“I don’t remember being with anyone, you know? I'm sure there are many things I’d love to try. I know I’d like to see what it feels like to be in you.” I grip his hips tighter and lick into his mouth. He moans and bucks his hips into mine. I draw back, my lips still grazing his as I speak. “Or to have you in me.”

“Em…” He moans bucking into me again. “You do realize this is all I’ll be thinking about while I'm away?”

“Good, we’re on the same page then.” I smile and he chuckles rolling off me. I groan at the loss of contact, but I know we don’t have time. I have to be at work in an hour and I still have to get home. I sigh. “I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He nods.

“Give me your phone.” I ask and he hands me his phone. I punch in my number. “Look, if you don’t call me, that’s alright. I get that you might not come back so no pressure.”

“I want to come back.” He says firmly.

“I know. But as you said – it won’t necessarily be up to you. So if you can’t come back, I’ll understand, no hard feelings.” I brush a kiss at his lips. “But if you do come back, please try the weekend. I hate to have to go to work when you’re here.”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll try to come. And I’ll call you.”

“Ok, I hope you will.” I smile and he tugs me closer to him.

“Hey, I know it’s all sorts of stupid and you don’t even really know me, but… Fuck it. I just wish I could stay a bit longer.”

“It’s ok, Dean. I understand your real life is elsewhere.”

“It’s not ok!” He groans, tightening his arms around me. “It fucking sucks. I hate that I have to leave. I hate that I don’t have a chance to stay with you for longer than few nights and I hate that… You’ll go back to your life – dating and friends and eventually family and… Dammit, just forget about it.”

“Dean.” I mutter. Something flips over itself in my stomach and my heartbeat fastens. “You do realize it goes both ways? I hate that you have to leave and I can’t go with you. You’re risking your life everyday and there’s nothing I can do to help you except pull away and let you go and I hate it. I hate it that I don’t know you the way I want to know you. Do you think I haven’t noticed how you pull away whenever I ask something personal? And I get it – you don’t want to get deeper into whatever it is we’re doing here, but I honestly hate that… And it’s absurd to even speak about that, because I have to go and you have to leave again and we might not even see each other ever again… Just… You’re right, let’s just forget about that. We had a great time and that’s good enough.” I sit up. It’s getting downright painful and I don’t want it to be about pain. “Look, I really have to go now, Mark’s not going to be impressed with me if I'm late again.”

“Yeah, ok.” He nods. “I have to go too, Sam’s waiting for me and I really should be researching now rather than…”

What can I say to that? It’s a goodbye again so as always, I just smile and we both get dressed.

“I’m glad you came to see me.” I tell him at the door. He nods and then we’re kissing again. It hurts to let him go, again, so I concentrate on the felling of his mouth on mine and on the feeling of fire in the pit of my stomach. Finally, I pull away. “Be safe.” I mutter and walk out closing the door behind me.


	11. Withdrawal

Saturday

 

I think it’s the third day that gets to anyone going through withdrawal. I don’t know for sure, of course, but it seems to me, it must be the third day. On the first day, you are still full of determination – you’re doing the right thing, you’re strong and you’re kind of proud of yourself for how well you’re doing. You even manage to go through the whole day!

On the second day it’s getting hard, but you’re managing. You’re being strong and you can withstand the hardships of withdrawal. Or so you tell yourself, but by the evening you start questioning your reasons. You manage though but somehow it doesn’t feel as good anymore.

And it’s the third day that gets you. It’s the third day that you start questioning yourself, going through your reasons and thinking that maybe, just maybe, whatever you’re abstaining from wasn’t that bad for you. Maybe you don’t have to quit just now, surely there’s still time! And surely you weren’t all that ready to let go, so why continue, when you can have whatever it is back. Just a little. Nothing serious, just a little hit.

I think that’s what I'm feeling as I'm staring at my phone. I’m at work trying to get back to the breadbox I've been making, but my head pounds and every few minutes I glance at my phone which just doesn’t ring. I understand Dean is not a substance I've been abusing and have to withdraw from, but the feeling I get is something I associate with abstaining. I miss him so much it’s almost physical. It’s as if he’d clawed deep under my skin, ripped something out and I can feel this absence in all of my being. It’s absurd, of course, to feel that way about someone I don’t even really know, someone who will probably never come back, but…

I'm shamefully glad I don’t have his number – I don’t know if I would be strong enough to stop myself from getting that little bit of him if I did. I was right not to exchange numbers and I shouldn’t have given him mine, because even though I can’t call him, all I do is stare at my phone and hope he’d call me… He doesn’t though and part of me breaks at that while other part is relieved, because I have to go through this withdrawal and the only way to do it is not to speak to him again.

I’m going to Emma’s birthday party tonight and I just know I’m going to try to get drunk. I need to let go and I need to forget, even if just for a few hours. Again, I’m shamefully glad I don’t have his number, because even I know that being inebriated does nothing to increase self control and rational thinking. So I’m just going to get drunk with Tom and stay as far away from Emma as possible, so I don’t do anything stupid. Like break it off on her birthday. Or have sex with her so I don’t feel so alone anymore. As I said, stupid.

By the time I reach Emma’s place, the party is in full swing. In the town this size, almost everyone in the age group is invited anyway.

“Emma!” I smile at her. She’s in one of her rare dresses, she’s happy and excited and her eyes glow warmly as she looks at me.

“Em! Finally! I told Mark I’d have his head if you didn’t come.”

“I said I’d come.” I laugh and hand her a package and kiss her cheek. “Here, happy birthday!”

“You didn’t have to…”

“It’s a birthday, people give gifts on birthdays.” I deadpan and she smiles.

“Thanks, Em! I’m glad you came.”

“Me too. Ok, so where can I get a drink? It’s been a long day and I could really use one.” I grin looking around. Emma points me towards the makeshift bar. “Alright, I won’t keep you from your guests, see you later.”

I stride towards the bar and get a beer. I look around to find Tom and I see him speaking to Jess. I know there’s some kind of history between the two, so I decide not to butt in. Instead I roam around a little, drinking my beer and wishing for something stronger. That said something stronger comes to me unexpectedly in the form of buzzing in my pocket. I pull out the phone and see unknown number flashing on the screen. My stomach clenches up with hope I am trying to stifle.

“Hello?” I say picking up and striding towards the door to go someplace quiet.

“Hey.” I hear his voice and I sigh with relief.

“Dean…” I breathe.

“Yeah. Is it a bad time?” He asks as I walk out the door.

“No, it’s ok, I’m just at the party. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just… you know, thought I’d call.”

“I’m glad you did.” I tell him honestly. “How’s Sam? Is he better?”

“Not really. Still not sleeping much.” He mutters and then changes the subject. “So, party?”

“Yeah… It’s Emma’s birthday, so… Besides I figured I could use a distraction.”

“And your girlfriend would kill you if you didn’t come.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” I tell him automatically and he laughs.

“So, how’s the party? Are you having fun?”

“Well… I just came here. I had to work today and there were some things to take care of, so I don’t really know how the party is. It seems fine – half the town is here anyway.”

“Freakin’ small towns…” He mumbles.

“I take it you’re not a fan.”

“Nah. My hometown is Lawrence, Kansas. Not a big city by any standards, but not a small town too. My family traveled a lot when I was a kid and more often than not Sam and I got to go to small town schools. I can’t bring myself to like small towns ever since.”

“Why’s that?” I ask and sit down by the tree in Emma’s back yard.

“People always want to know everything in small towns. There’s no privacy and you have to remember an impressive amount of lies to go by.”

“That’s true… But also there’s always someone who’ll be willing to help you if you need it.”

“There’s that.” He agrees. “So how’ve you been?”

“I’m alright.” I lie smoothly. As always, I don’t want whatever it is we have to be marred by sadness. “You?”

“Peachy.”

There’s a silence between us for a few moments.

“I shouldn’t have called, should I?” He asks finally.

“I don’t know.” I tell him truthfully. “I… I just thought it would be easier.”

“Speaking to me?”

“No, not speaking to you.”

“It’s ridiculous.” He mutters and I flinch. Yes, I should really keep my mouth shut.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, not that… It’s crazy how much I want to see you.”

“Oh… You do?”

“Yeah. I know it’s crazy and all. Dammit, how the hell did you get under my skin?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s your fault. I mean you saved my life!”

“Yeah, but I save a lot of lives. I don’t usually let people get to me like that. And now I should be getting ready to face those suckers tomorrow, but instead all I can think of is you. It just sucks.”

“I’m sorry.” I say again, but I really am not. It’s a relief what I’m feeling, and longing, but definitely not regret.

“Are you?” He wonders and then continues. “Anyway, I figured I’d call you, since I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m glad you did. I've been thinking about you too.”

“Anything dirty?” He asks and I can hear a grin in his voice.

“Maybe.”

“Really?” He’s all excited. “Tell me.”

“I’m in Emma’s back yard and there are people quite close to me. I think I can see a couple making out – I’m really not telling you anything now.”

“Is that your way of making me call you later?” He asks laughing.

“Maybe.” I grin. “Regardless, I can’t promise I’d tell you what I’ve been thinking of. Besides, I would much rather show you.”

“Would you now?” He drawls and the pauses. “Dammit, Em! How can I concentrate on stuff when you say things like that?”

“Would it help if I told you I missed the way your skin feels under my hands? Or that I love how your body feels pressed to me – strong and hard and yet yielding and pliant under my touch? Or maybe the way I love the taste of your mouth – raw and wet and so undeniably you? Or better yet how I crave the taste and feeling of your dick in my mouth? Filling me, overwhelming with the taste and scent of musk and bitterness and something I don’t even know the name for…” I close my eyes as I hear his breath hitch and a soft moan escape his lips on the other side of the line. I'm painfully hard now and I want him here so much it physically hurts. “Or maybe I should tell you how I want to stretch you and slick you up and then thrust into you again and again until everything else stops mattering?”

Dean gasps then.

“Em… How did you…. Where… I mean…” He’s panting.

“Dean, I’m afraid you’re slightly incoherent.” I tell him seriously and then after a beat of silence we’re both laughing.

“For a guy who doesn’t remember having sex with anyone but me, you’re awesomely kinky!” He laughs.

“I blame you. I’m sure I was never like that before I met you. So, does it help to concentrate?” I chuckle.

“Yeah, on you! And didn’t you just say there are people around you?”

“Yes, but they went away. Besides, I figured they were busy anyway.”

“You keep surprising me, you know? Just when I think I know what to expect you kind of pull the rug from under me.”

“In a good way, I hope?” I ask.

“Yeah, in a good way. I would have never pegged you for a phone sex kind of guy, but dammit, you sure can pull it off.”

“Well, I'm not precisely given much choice. As I said I’d rather have you here and do things to you than talk about them. But hey, I suppose it’s the next best thing.”

“Well… You know, you kind of have a girlfriend, I mean… You know.”

I take a moment to compose myself. I could tell him I plan to break it off, but as far as I understand, this is not something he’s interested in anyway. I mean surely he wouldn’t remind me of Emma every time he can if he didn’t want me to pursue her. So I decide to keep it to myself.

“Yeah, I have Emma.” I agree calmly. “You are right Dean, there are options. Speaking of which, I should probably get back to her – I don’t think she’s going to be thrilled if I spend her birthday in the back yard on the phone.”

“Um… Yeah, ok, suppose you’re right.” He mutters and I swear if I didn’t know better I’d say he’s disappointed. As it is, I just shrug it off.

“Thanks for calling, anyway. I really wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, me to. Take care, Em.”

“You too. Be safe.”

I hang up the phone and close my eyes. I wonder briefly if this is why people say life’s a bitch. I want Dean more than anything else in this life, but he just doesn’t want me back this way. And Emma clearly wants me, but I don’t want her that way… It just sucks…

 

2 weeks later

Saturday

 

He hasn’t called me again.

I put an order on new drills for Emma’s dad. I also order more nails, because my neighbor, Josh, is building the shed and he bought all the long nails we had in the shop. I go along the rows of shelves in the shop and write down everything that we need to re-stock. Not much, it’s a small town after all. I put down the information on every order form methodically, slowly, making sure I don’t miss anything.

He hasn’t called me in two weeks.

I sigh and carry on with the stocktaking. It takes me half of the day, but by the time I’m finished, I’m satisfied with the results and I have put an order for everything we need.

I haven’t called him too.

I retreat to the shop and start working on cupboard I started few days ago. I finished the bread box last week and gave it to John yesterday. He seemed really glad I made it for him. So I started working on the cupboard. Mark gave me the blueprints and then showed me the basics and I think I have it. It keeps my hands occupied and it’s really what I need right now.

I miss him.

I have broken off the thing I had with Emma. It was the right thing to do. I know Dean doesn’t care about it, but I do – I can’t lead her on when I think of him so much, when I want him so much. It had hurt to see her disappointed face when I explained her I couldn’t do this anymore. I apologized and said it had nothing to do with her, I told her I just wasn’t in that place and that I valued our friendship too much to risk it. She said she understood and we agreed to be friends again, but I can see it’s hard for her. She steps by the shop every couple of days and Tom, Emma and I went to movies together on Thursday, but sometimes, when she thinks I'm not looking, I catch her watching me sadly. I feel very guilty about it, I should have stopped this sooner, but… I do like her and if I had never met Dean, I’d probably be dating her still and be happy about it. As it is, I know this was the right decision to make, even if it left me alone every evening thinking about him and not calling him.

I can’t help hoping he still thinks about me sometimes.

Ridiculous of course. He has a lot on his plate – leviathans, whatever the hell that is, his ill brother, saving people… And seriously – it was meant to be a one time thing, I have to stop thinking about him! He’s not coming back, it was just a one night stand gone too long, that’s all. I try to convince myself of that every single night, but despite everything, I still hope he’d call.

Around noon Tom comes to see me and stays almost until closing time. Once he found out I stopped seeing Emma, he asked me what was that about and I was on the verge of telling him about Dean. I didn’t, in the end. I don’t know why I didn’t, I really wanted to talk to someone about that, but it kind of seemed like a betrayal. Instead I gave him the same excuses and he looked at me as if I was crazy. Today though he just came to talk to me about the trip he’s planning to take. He wanted to go to Florida for a long time and finally in two weeks he’s going. It was supposed to be his and Brian’s trip, originally, but Tom decided to go anyway. I’m glad for him, he really needs a break.

When he leaves I close up and go back to the workshop to work on the cupboard some more. I don’t have places to be and my home is empty, so I decide to stay here for a bit longer. I think I lose time, because when I hear a knock on the door of the shop, it’s dark outside. I glance at the clock – it’s almost nine already. I wonder briefly who could be coming here at this time of the evening and then look down at myself. I'm all covered in wood chips and my hands are a mess from smoothing the wood. I shake my head and yell “One second!” before brushing the chips from my clothes.

I walk to the door and open it.

“You weren’t home.” Dean mutters and for a few seconds all I can do is stare at him. I can’t find my voice and I can’t find words I could use now. So I stare at him and take in his worn and tired state. From the looks of it he doesn’t seem to have slept in at least two days. His eyes are hollowed and the expression in them is guarded, unreadable, but I still know something bad happened. I can see his hands are shaking slightly and his jaw is set firmly as if he’s trying to pull himself together.

“What’s wrong?” I finally croak and he shudders.

“Can we go to your place?” He asks in a tight voice.

I nod and motion him inside. I go to the workshop and put the lights out, then I come back to him and after putting couple of things to their places I nod again.

“Let’s go.”

He drives us back to my home in silence. This same silence is there when we walk into my house and I lead him to the living room and we sit down on the couch. I look at him expectantly and take his hands in mine.

“What’s wrong?” I ask again and I see pain flash in his eyes, but the next moment he’s kissing me. He’s rougher than ever before, his hands grip me bruisingly, his mouth insistent and hard against mine. He pulls me to him smashing his lips against mine once again and holding me by the back of my neck. I could struggle and get away and there’s part of me that wants just that, but the bigger part of me knows this is what he needs right now. Whatever happened, he needs to get it out and so I let him pull and yank me to him, bite my neck leaving marks and bruises, scrape my skin. I let him pull at my clothes feverishly, yanking them out of his way. Before I know it my t-shirt is off and he’s pushing me down on my back, fumbling with my zipper and peeling my jeans and underwear off me. It’s frenzied and feverish and I can feel my head spinning with the need I have for him. He crawls on top of me then and starts trailing his mouth down my body, leaving marks and bites along the way. I buck and groan beneath him, but at the same time I clutch him and cling to him, trailing my hands down his back and up his sides, caressing him and trying to make him feel me through whatever haze he’s in. I don’t know what’s happening, but I want to help him, I want him to let go of whatever it is that makes his touch punishing instead of pleasing. I can feel his pain, it throbs deep inside me and I want him to feel better. I wonder momentarily if I should try to will him feel better, but I dismiss it. He needs to let it out and I’ll help him do just that. My mind is clouded with the heady mix of desire and pain as he bites and then licks at my skin, as he grips and then caresses my muscles. I moan and I groan because despite of everything I want him and there’s this fire in me that just can’t get enough of his bruising touch. His lips and teeth find my nipple and he’s twisting and pulling painfully. I arch my back into that touch and suddenly he pushes two of his fingers into my mouth. I suck at them obediently and then I’m abruptly flipped over onto my stomach. Dean settles between my legs pulling me up so I’m on my hands and knees. He gives me a second to pull away, but I don’t. I want him too much as is and I really want him to snap out of it, to come back to his former self. I close my eyes and try to relax, but before I can he pushes his fingers into me. He’s hard and relentless and I flinch at the pain and burn of intrusion. He thrusts his fingers in and out couple of times, opening me up and just as I start to get used to his fingers in me, he pulls them away. I can hear him spit and I try to ready myself for the pain I know will follow. He grips my hips tightly and starts pushing in. There’s no way there’s enough lubrication and I'm fairly certain I’m not prepared enough, but I grind my teeth and hold all the sounds of pain and discomfort that threaten to burst out. He doesn’t stop or hesitate – he pushes all the way in and it takes all I have not to pull away. From what I read, the first time is never too easy, but I don’t think it should hurt as much. I clench my hands into fists and bite on my lip until I draw blood to stop myself from whimpering. I won’t show him this hurts, because whatever his reasons are, he needs this and I can do this for him. I briefly wish he’d give me a moment to adjust, but he doesn’t. Instead he pulls almost all the way out and then slams back into me. He sets a hard rhythm, thrusting and pounding into me. My head swims with pain and something else I can’t even identify and yet the fire in me starts blazing just like before, as if there’s something in me wanting him no matter what he does and who he is. I lower my head and concentrate on the fire in the pit of my stomach, holding onto it, letting it scald me and yet not letting it to get out of control. Soon I feel Dean’s rhythm start faltering, his thrusts become erratic and I think I hear him speak. I'm not sure, because there’s just too much with the pain of his thrusts and the scalding of the fire, but I think I hear him mutter against my back ‘I wish it wasn’t your fault’. It doesn’t make sense though, because I'm sure I haven’t done anything and yet… A second later I hear him let out a low cry and then he tenses and with the last hard thrust he’s coming deep inside me.

When he eases himself out of me I turn around and pull him into my arms and wrap myself around him. He’s sweaty and tired, but he’s still shaking feverishly. I brush his hair from his forehead and trail careful kisses down his shoulder all the while holding him and caressing him.

“It’s going to be ok, Dean. You’re here now; it’s going to be ok.” I whisper to him, stroking his back and he sobs silently clutching me tightly.

“It’s Bobby… he’s dead…”


	12. Quiet Times

It takes me a long time to coax him into stillness. I’ve never seen him this way, it’s as if he finally let his guard down and behind all those walls there’s a man who’s been in pain for a very long time. I whisper soothing nonsense, make promises that I don’t know if he lets me keep and run my hands along his back and his hair, trying to make him calm down. I concentrate and I will his pain to abide, I will him to be alright again. Finally, when he stops shivering, I slide from under him and pull him up as well. I walk him to the shower, wincing slightly when I'm sure he doesn’t see. Ok, so I’ll be walking weirdly for a while. I disregard it, that doesn’t matter right now.

Dean comes with me without a word. He’s silent all the time as I let the water run, make sure it’s not too hot and step into the shower, pulling him with me.

We don’t speak as I start soaping his body. His hands and arms first, then his chest, his stomach and his back. I work slowly and methodically, covering every inch of his perfect body. My hands linger for a second on the hand shaped scar on his shoulder, but I don’t ask, somehow I know this is not the time for talking.

I sink to my knees and start soaping his legs – feet and calves first, then moving to his thighs. I look up briefly and see him watching me with half lidded eyes. I’m happy to be able to do that, to be able to take care of him in any way possible. He shivers when I run my hands along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. When my hands finally reach his groin, he’s fully hard again. I wash him carefully, thoroughly and somewhere along the way he lets out a silent moan. I sit him down on the edge of the tub and start washing his hair. His hands find my hips and he’s holding onto me. I finish washing his hair and I pull him up under the current of warm water. I run my hands along his entire body, rinsing him, but also simply caressing him, enjoying the feel of his body under my hands. Once he’s clean, I push him from under the water and start washing myself quickly. He watches silently as I soap myself and then slide back under water to clean up. When I'm finally clean, I turn the water off, but before I can get out of the shower, he reaches for me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into a soft kiss. The kisses we trade are slow and open mouthed, we’re sharing air more than anything else, but I still exhale with relief, because I can feel him coming back to me. He lets my mouth go, but trails his kisses down my jaw to the hollow of my neck. This time his kisses are soft and gentle, meant to please and not to punish. Suddenly, he slides to his knees and before I can react, his mouth is on me. He swirls his tongue around the head of my dick and then sucks it into his mouth. I whimper and try to push him off.

“Dean, you don’t have to…” I manage. The look he shoots me is both surprised and sad, but he just tightens his hold on my hips and continues sucking and swirling his tongue the way it makes me whimper uncontrollably. It doesn’t take long and I probably should be embarrassed by how little time it takes for me to lose control completely. But I haven’t seen him in over two weeks and I missed him more than should be possible. I can feel it building in me, the tightness and the fire in the pit of my stomach and soon, too soon, I'm trying to push him away again.

“Dean… Dean!” I moan warningly, but he ignores that and keeps his rhythm steady, maddeningly so until finally with a long moan I let go. The force of my orgasm rocks through me and I'm spilling deep into his mouth. He doesn’t let go, instead works me through it, swallowing and licking me clean. When he finally does let go, I have to clutch his shoulders not to let my knees buckle. He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist once again, holding me tightly. I know I must look slightly dazed, at least that’s how I feel, but I just hold on to him feeling his small smile press into the crook between my neck and my shoulder. Finally, I pull away and step out of the shower. I grab the towel and dry him up first, then dry myself up.

“Let’s go to sleep.” I mutter when we’re both no longer dripping. “You look like you could sleep for a week.”

Before I can walk him out of the bathroom though, he pulls me into his arms again. He’s silent, just hugging me and I run my hand through his wet hair and whisper into his ear.

“I missed you.”

I probably shouldn’t tell him that, but it’s pretty obvious how happy I am he’s here and it’s not like I told him the other three words that I'm pretty sure are true by now. He tightens his hold for a second and then mutters.

“Yeah, me too.”

He lets go and I smile at him.

“Come, sleep now, talk tomorrow.”

 

 

Sunday

 

I wake up with the feeling that I can hardly breathe. It doesn’t scare me or startle me, I wake up slowly and lazily and as I open my eyes I understand why I have difficulties to breathe. Dean is lying on top of me. He has his thigh wedged between my legs and he’s lying on my chest. I can’t imagine it can be at all comfortable, but he’s peaceful in his sleep, so I just let him lie like that. For a guy who told me first hand that he’s not a cuddly type, he sure clings like an octopus. Not that I’m complaining of course, I like the feeling of his weight on me. It still feels new, but it’s something I’d very much like to get used to. I run my hands down his sides and rest them on his hips. He feels… Dammit, he feels like someone I could spend my life holding and it scares me that I'm not freaked out by that. This man in my arms has a power to break me and yet I hold on to him and let him come back time and again. What the hell am I doing? What am I thinking? Every time he leaves it’s harder for me to start living again and still I long for him and I let him come back. I lie there thinking about how I’m falling, and yet his weight grounds me and keeps me steady.

When he finally wakes I’m no longer restless. I know this will probably not end well, but my mind is finally made up, I’ll do what I have to, I will at least try to have him.

“Morning.” I wheeze out with a smile. Dean blinks at me couple of times and then rolls off me. I take a deep breath.

“Sorry… Jesus, why didn’t you push me off?” He asks.

“You were asleep. And I didn’t mind.”

“You’re a weirdo, you know?”

“Really? And here I thought you were the one clutching me.” I chuckle.

“I wasn’t… I was asleep, doesn’t count.” He smirks, but I swear his cheeks flush. “And anyway, staring at someone while they sleep is creepy.”

“I wasn’t… You were on top of me, doesn’t count.” I mimic his response and we’re both laughing.

“Do you want some coffee?” I finally ask.

“Yeah, in a minute.” He says and rolls closer to me again. He kisses me slowly, softly and then murmurs against my lips. “I like waking up with you.”

“You go with waking up?” I ask with a mock horror. “Damn, my technique is definitely not improving…”

“Smartass.” He groans. “How ‘bout that coffee?”

I smile at him and sit up. It’s unexpected, and I think it’s because it’s so unexpected that I react before I can stop myself. The pain in my ass, and seriously – a literal pain in my ass, startles me enough for me to let out a hiss before I can stifle it.

“Hey, what is it?” Dean asks at once and I stand up. Ok, standing is more preferable than sitting. I turn back to him with a forced smile that I try to make as sincere as possible.

“Nothing. Do you want breakfast too?”

He narrows his eyes and I can see he’s trailing his gaze along my body, noticing the bruises and bite marks. I start dressing up quickly, I don’t like the look on his face.

“I hurt you.” He says quietly.

“No, you didn’t.” I tell him firmly. “So how about that breakfast?”

He’s in my personal space bubble the next moment and he lifts the t-shirt I just managed to pull on. He trails his fingertips across the lines and bruises.

“I hurt you.” He repeats in the tone I hate. It’s distant and dejected and I can see he’s closing in on me again.

“Snap out of it, Dean,” I tell him calmly and pull the t-shirt down again, “I’m not made of glass and I don’t break easily.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I'm sorry.” He mutters with the same distant look in his eyes.

I grab the back of his neck and force him to look at me.

“Where are you?” I ask. “What is this about?”

He looks at me with eyes wide in horror. I know this isn’t about me, there’s something else I don’t know so I shake him gently.

“Dean, come back to me.” I plead. “Whatever it is, come back to me. It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me. Dean, please…”

Finally, I just don’t know what else to do, so I pull him in and kiss him. He doesn’t respond. For the longest time he just stands there, eyes wide and unseeing until finally, finally, his eyelashes flutter and he closes his eyes sinking into the kiss. His arms are around me then and he kisses me back, gently, but insistently. I let out the sigh of relief.

“What was it?”

“I don’t… I… I freaked out.” He admits dropping his gaze.

“Yeah, ok, you freaked out, but what was it? What happened here?” I insist.

“Em, please, can we not talk about that?”

“Ok, we can, but I really think we should…”

“Jesus… I just… Look, I’ve done things, things I'm not proud of and I just… I don’t want to hurt you, ok?”

“You didn’t hurt me. Come on, Dean!”

“Well why did you let me?” He asks releasing me and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Why the fuck didn’t you just make me stop?”

“Why did you come back?” I counter. “And you didn’t hurt me.”

“What does that even have to do with anything?” He asks exasperatedly. “And I can see bruises on you!”

“Dammit, Dean! Do you think I can’t handle this? You didn’t do anything I can’t handle! I would have pushed you away if it was too much.” I frown at him. “And it has everything to do with this. Why did you come back?”

“I don’t fucking know, ok? I didn’t… I wasn’t… I just couldn’t stay at Bobby’s for another minute, so I jumped into the car and drove until I found myself on your doorstep!”

I put my hand on his shoulder then and will him to feel better. He huffs out a soft sound of relief.

“You can always come to me.” I tell him silently. “And I’ll try to help you.”

He looks at me for a long while. There’s something in his eyes I can’t quite understand. There’s pain, but there’s also something I just can’t discern.

“I… Look, there was a time when I hurt people. I didn’t want to, but I did and… I promised myself I’d never do that again. And now, yesterday… Um… Dammit, I’m so just fucking sorry! It was never supposed to be about the pain, ok? And I’m sorry…”

I cup his face in my hands and force him to look at me.

“Dean, listen to me. I am not something you need to take care of or save. I’m not some kind of damsel in distress you need to worry about. And. I. Can. Handle. You.” I tell him firmly, pausing after each word.

“You don’t even know me.” He mutters and I roll my eyes.

“I know all I need to know.”

He sighs heavily and pulls me into a hug again.

“How the hell did this even happen?”

“Hmm… Well I think you saving me might be a contributing factor.” I answer with a smirk, rest my chin on his shoulder and then chuckle. “Besides, you really are hot.”

He huffs out a soft laughter at that.

“Now, can we maybe stop the drama and go get some breakfast? Plus, I’m really a lot less grouchy once I had some coffee in me.”

“Yeah, ok, let’s get that coffee.” He nods and we both dress up.

Once I have him at the table with the mug of coffee and plate of eggs in front of him, I finally ask.

“So tell me.”

He shoots me the deer in the headlight look, but then sighs and nods.

“Bobby’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” I tell him and I really am. This unknown Bobby has been so important to Dean that this pain of the loss is almost palpable presence in him.

“Yeah, well… Anyway, Sammy and me took care of everything, you know… He left us all he had, not that it’s much, but still, everything.” He clenches his fists and I reach out automatically. I put my hand on his and will him to feel better. It’s getting easier now that I know how to do it and what to expect.

“Dammit, Em!” He mutters after sucking in a deep breath. “You’re like a hit, you know? I’ll be a fucking junkie if you keep doing that.”

I frown at him and pull away. What if he’s right? I don’t even know what it is I’m doing, what if it really is addictive?

“Come on, I was just joking!”

“I can feel it, you know?” I tell him seriously. “The pain people are in. I can almost touch it. And now I know I can do something about it. I don’t know how exactly, but it’s like… Like I will it to subside.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you Em, it’s weird. But I suppose it’s just a weird you thing, I mean I’ve seen enough weirdness to accept that. Plus it really feels nice, whatever it is you do.”

“Ok, let’s just leave me out of this for a second.” I dismiss it. “What happened to Bobby?”

“We were on a job, it was supposed to be a regular salt-n-burn. There was something killing and eating people, no biggie. Sort of similar to the aruda that got your friend… Or maybe rugaru, since there was very little left of the victims. I mean I know for you it probably sounds crazy, but for us it’s an easy job, boring mostly. So yeah… When we got to the town, people were acting strangely. They were crazy cheerful the one minute and then apathetic the second. And then… I suppose I started acting weird too. It was… I don’t know how to describe it – everything mattered, but nothing did. I know how it sounds Em, I’m not insane, but… Dammit, I just don’t know how to say this. For example, I cared that a leather wallet has been scratched when we killed the guy munching on the ranger, but I didn’t care about the ranger. And I was hungry all the time.”

“You got infected with something?” I ask him silently. I can’t help the dread freezing me.

“Yeah, apparently the diner in that town was serving burgers spiked with… Uh, I don’t even want to remember, it was grey goo of some sort. I’ve never been sicker than after that freakin’ slammer wore off and I finally realized what I’ve eaten.” He shudders bodily and pushes his plate of eggs away. “Right, so then we found out that leviathans were behind this and we started tracking and watching them. Bobby got some surveillance gadgets and was watching them. It was supposed to be a simple thing, he was supposed to just look from safe distance, but they got him. Sammy and me burst him out, but before we could escape… One of them shot Bobby. He was in coma for couple of days and then he just… died.”

I walk around the table, tug on his hand to get him up and then hug him. He sags onto me.

“I’m so sorry, Dean.” I mutter into his ear, but this time I don’t will him to feel better, I just hold him. I don’t know how long we stand like that, but we’re finally forced to let go by the ring of my phone. I wonder idly that we get interrupted by phones often enough as I go to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Son?” I hear familiar voice.

“Hi John. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, all is good. Sorry to call you so early, but I wanted to catch you before sermon.”

“It’s alright, I'm awake.” I tell him. “What’s up?”

“Well, for one, I wanted to ask if you were coming to church today.” He says hesitantly.

“John… You know I don’t like to… And I've been there three weeks ago.”

“Yes, but… Oh, fine, son, I wasn’t expecting anything else, to be honest. I do have a question though. Mark tells me there’s a car parked in your driveway.”

I roll my eyes. It’s 7.30 am and this town already knows there’s a stranger car parked at my place.

“That’s not a question.” I tell him calmly.

“Don’t you sass me.” He admonishes and I chuckle.

“Yes, there’s a car parked in my driveway.” I finally say and Dean gives me a curious look. I shrug.

“Mark also says it’s the same car those FBI agents had.”

“That’s also not a question, but yes, it’s the same car. What is your question anyway?”

“Well… What are the FBI agents doing at your place? Are you in trouble?”

“No, I'm not in trouble.” I sigh. I hate lying to John, makes me feel like shit, but I suppose there’s no way I could explain him satisfactorily what is Dean doing here without lying to him. To make things worse I notice Dean watching me with a smirk. “One of the agents, Dean, was back in town yesterday and I ran into him. They’re still investigating what happened to Brian and Dennis, so we got talking and he’s in town for couple of days and.… Well, you know how you always say we should help people out? So I offered Dean a couch at my place.”

Dean chuckles silently at that and I roll my eyes at him.

“That’s very nice of you, Em.” John says thoughtfully. “I didn’t know you were friendly with those agents.”

“They are investigating Brian’s death.” I tell him simply and seriously, I would always try to help people investigating my friend’s death. I think that convinces John.

“I’m glad to hear you’re helping then.” He says. “But you will still come for dinner, won’t you?”

“Um… I was actually planning to show Dean around, if you don’t mind? I mean, I’d hate leaving him alone here.”

“Oh, no, no! Of course bring him with you!”

“John, I sincerely doubt Dean would be interested in dinner at your place. No offense.”

“Tell him I make the best steaks in town!”

I laugh and it warms me a little to see Dean snap his head up to look at me with a soft smile.

“I'm serious John, I’m sure Dean’s not interested in your steaks.”

Dean cocks his eyebrow at that with a contemplative look on his face.

“Wait a second.” I tell John and mouth ‘what?’ at Dean.

“Steak? I could have a steak.” He shrugs and I stare at him.

“Seriously?” I ask and he gives me another shrug.

“John? I suppose we will be coming for steaks.”

“Excellent!” He laughs. “I’ll be waiting for you two at 5 as always.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

I put my phone down and stare at Dean.

“Seriously? You want to go to John for steaks?”

“Why not? I'm never the one to turn the steak down!” He chuckles and I shake my head.

“Suit yourself, but you do realize it’s sort of ‘meeting the parents’ kind of thing?”

He chokes on his coffee then and starts coughing. 

I laugh at that and come closer to stroke his back.

“Relax, I’m joking. It’s not going to be anything like that – you’re an FBI agent crashing on my couch. I imagine John will be grateful to you for investigating these deaths, that’s all.”

“And besides, he doesn’t approve, does he?” He asks and I nod absently.

“His faith says it’s a sin.”

“So when we’re there, I’m not allowed to do this?” He asks and snakes his arm around my shoulders.

“Nope.” I shake my head.

“Or this?” He presses his mouth against mine and licks along the seam of my lips.

“No.” I breathe into his mouth and he uses this to slide his tongue in. He caresses my tongue, licks at the corner of my lips and along my upper lip. “Or this?”

He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and at the same time bucks his hips so our groins brush against each other.

I gasp and then pull away.

“I wouldn’t suggest doing that in anyone’s presence, least of all in the presence of a catholic priest.” I deadpan and he laughs. “The steaks better be awesome then.”

 

Sunday afternoon

 

Of all the encounters I had with Dean, and in all fairness most of them were amazing, I think I liked the day we spent together before going to John’s the most. And it’s not because of the sex, although clearly it is a big part of it, but rather because of the quiet times, like eating breakfast in silence while I go through world news section of the Sunday paper and Dean scans the sports. Or just after lunch, when Dean watches some silly medical show, which seems more of the soap opera than anything else and I lie on the couch reading one of the books Tom’s given me, my head in his lap and his fingers threading through my hair idly. Or when he fetches his clothes from the car before we have to change for dinner and as I walk out of the bathroom we stare at each other for a moment and then laugh together realizing we match – both in jeans and white shirts. And maybe it’s because all through that Dean doesn’t seem to be able to stop touching me – lingering feeling of his fingers wrapped around my wrist or his hand on the small of my back or his lips on the back of my neck.

We kiss for a long while before walking out my home, because we both know we won’t be able to touch each other and neither of us is too keen to let go. Finally though, I push him away, but still lean into his touch when he threads his fingers through my hair trying to flatten it somewhat and with the echoed sigh we walk out the door.

As we walk towards John’s, my mind wanders to Dean’s brother. It’s surprising, really, that I should think about him, but it’s clear Dean cares a lot about him and it just bothers me that he’s somewhere alone. I don’t like the obsessive idea shoving at me, dear God or whatever there is, how much I don’t like it, but my mind keeps reeling and returning to it, and I just have to say something. Just before we reach John’s home, I turn to Dean. “When do you leave?”

“Well, that’s a bit of the non sequitur!” He chuckles and I realize I just interrupted him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I just rather know.”

He sighs. “I don’t know. Couple of days probably. I don’t have a case or anything and Sam… He wanted to take a break anyway, so I suppose I’m not in a hurry. Unless of course… I mean I’m not interrupting, am I? Wouldn’t want to impose, you know.”

“Don’t be absurd.” I frown. “No, I just wondered because… Dammit, I hate to say this, but I think you should go back to Sam.”

“What? Are you kicking me out?”

“No, that’s not it. You can stay as long as you want. No, scratch that, I’d like you to stay as long as you want, but the truth is… You just lost somebody who’s your family and Sam did too. You two should be together now, help each other out. I mean, isn’t that what families do?”

There’s a long silence between us then and I know he’s thinking about what I said. I can also see he misses his brother, needs him and I know I'm right to push him back to his family, even though it means losing him again. It dawns on me then that maybe, just maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. I made up my mind this morning, I have to try keeping him so I stop and look at him again.

“Or maybe he can come here? I mean I would like to meet him someday and I haven’t even thanked him for saving my life.”

“Wait, what?” He asks perplexed.

“Well… You know I have a guest room and a couch, so… You don’t have to tell him about this… thing between us… um… It’s not about that anyway, it’s just…” I stutter and even to myself I sound ridiculous. “Look, what I’m trying to say is that it would probably be good for both of you to change the scene and you’re both welcome to stay at my home, no strings attached or whatever the saying is. I’d like you to stay longer this time and I’d really like to meet your brother.”

He stares at me through my struggles to speak coherently, blinking at me owlishly. “You’re serious?” There’s an incredulity in his voice that makes whatever else I was about to say get stuck in my throat. He can’t even entertain the idea of me being any kind of a part of his life, not even a friend. And it hurts, like I always knew it eventually would, because somewhere along the way I let myself fall for him, but Dean… He just doesn’t do this, it’s not who his is, he just doesn’t fall. I blink, pulling myself together and shake my head.

“No, no, you’re right. It’s just stupid, why would you bring him here?” I force a smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry about that.” I take a deep breath trying my best to sound calm and start walking again. “But I do think you should go back to your brother. He shouldn’t be alone in the time like this. And you shouldn’t be either.”

“Em…”

“We’re almost there, Dean. Look, how about we have those steaks and then… You can stay tonight, but then you should really go back.” I tell him quickly before he sees all of this is breaking me and while I still have strength to push him away.

“Em!” He repeats and then grabs my wrist before I can knock on John’s door. I turn to look at him with what I hope is a carefully impassive expression on my face. “I’ll ask Sam to come.”

“What?” I mumble because out of everything he could’ve said right now, this I’d have expected the least.

“I don’t want to go.” He says simply. “And you’re right, he shouldn’t be alone. I’m not alone, he shouldn’t be either.”

“But…”

“It goes both ways, you fool. I fucking want to stay and I want Sam to meet you too. Look, it’s getting too sappy for my liking, so how about we talk this through when I can kiss you senseless instead of having to say this emo crap?”

I stare at him for few more heartbeats and then I laugh loudly, my relief too huge for the words. “Just so we’re clear – you want to stay? As in with me?”

He rolls his eyes, but his thumb is still rubbing circles on my wrist. “I freakin’ want to stay. And you’re damn right I don’t want to stay for the picturesque scenery or tourist attractions!”

I raise my eyebrow at him with a small smile and he sighs.

“You, goddammit! I want to stay with you.”

I smile at him, slowly and fully, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You’ve no idea how much I’d like to kiss you right now.” I mutter silently.

“I’m pretty sure I do.” He grins. “Come on, let’s get in before I can get my hands on you and the good Father finds out a little something about you he might not like all that much.”

I laugh again and as he releases my wrist, I knock on the door.


	13. Meeting the Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so here's an update and some good news - I finally finished this story, just the editing part left, so I plan to update more regularly from now on :) But for now - enjoy!

“Emmanuel told me you’re still investigating the deaths of Brian and Dennis.” John says pleasantly albeit curiously. We’re in his back yard, he has his grill almost ready to start on the steaks and we’re all nursing beers.

“Yes, although truth be told, it doesn’t look promising. Both murders happened close to each other in time and there was nothing after. It’s more likely than not, it was a drifter who has since moved away. The bureau is of course looking for any similarities in the homicides across the country, thus making it more of our jurisdiction, but so far we’ve got nothing.” Dean says confidently and I can’t help but marvel at how easily those lies come to him. He’s obviously used to getting around with impressive amount of deceit.

“That is unfortunate.” John muses. “Isn’t this the worse part of your work – waiting until somebody else is killed so you can do something?”

“Yes, you’re right, it never gets easier, this helplessness. I had this friend in bureau who kept telling me I can’t save everyone, and the balls of it is that it’s true.” Dean frowns and then as an afterthought adds. “Sorry, Father.”

“It’s alright, agent. I understand how helplessness can be frustrating. I am somewhat familiar with it. Before moving here I used to work in Boston, mainly with troubled kids. I could feel them slipping through my fingers into fates that would lead them nowhere good, but more often than not there was nothing I could do.”

“Yes, troubled kids are the worst.” Dean nods. “But please, call me Dean, I’m not exactly on duty here.”

“Ok, then do call me John. I have to ask though – if you don’t believe you can solve the murders that happened here, what are you doing back?”

My breath hitches at that. John’s always been perceptive. Dean doesn’t hesitate though.

“Well, I’m actually on holidays. I like to drive, you know? I usually take time off and just go across couple of states. So I was in the vicinity, Beloit, and I figured, since I’m this close, I can as well come over and see if everything’s alright here, if I haven’t missed something. I was about to get the room in the motel you have here when I ran into Em and he offered me his couch. Surprised the hell out of me!” He laughs suddenly and I can’t help but smile.

“It’s actually sad that being kind is surprising in your field of work.” I tell him and he shrugs.

“Yeah, well, I don’t get to meet a lot of kind people, Em. Monsters and douches are more of my type.”

“Well, then it’s good you met Emmanuel.” John smiles. “He’s actually a nice guy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Dean nods and shoots a warm look my way. “Em’s one of the kind.”

I notice John narrow his eyes minutely as he looks from Dean to me, but he says nothing about it, instead he points towards the house.

“Em, can you bring me the steaks? And the veggies.”

I can see Dean scrunch his nose at the mention of vegetables and I smile at him. “I’ll help.” He says and we go to the kitchen together. As soon as we’re out of John’s sight, I feel Dean’s arms wrap around my middle and his mouth press to the back of my neck. His erection is nudging curiously at my ass and I hum appreciatively as he trails his lips down my neck. “It’s so fucking hard not to touch you.” He mutters and I lean back, twist my head around so I can reach his lips and kiss him. Finally, I push myself out of his hold. By then we’re both panting slightly and Dean looks disheveled and so damn hot, that I have to consciously restrain myself from reaching out.

“This was bad idea.” I mutter and Dean nods. “Those goddamn steaks better be worth it!”

We manage to get through all the cooking with easy conversations and jokes. Dean’s easy to talk to – he has this… I don’t really know what it is, but it’s like a different personality he uses when conversing with people. I’ve only ever seen him with few other people, since we’re almost always alone together, but even so, whenever he’s in public he slips into this different personality, as if putting on a mask. I don’t know him nearly well enough to be this presumptuous, but he does seem very different in presence of other people than when we’re alone. Regardless, the conversations flow easily and I can see John honestly likes him. Dean relaxes even more by the time the steaks are cooked and we’re all inside at the table.

John says the grace quickly and then with a nod encourages us to start eating. And of course it is all just too good to last, because the next thing John says makes me roll my eyes and sigh.

“So, I saw Emma at the church today.” Is what he says and I notice how Dean tenses again.

“Well, she does come to church every Sunday. Were you surprised?” I ask exasperatedly and I can almost see John’s retort of ‘don’t sass me boy’ on the tip of his tongue. He holds back and I’m sure it’s for Dean’s benefit rather than mine. He does continue though. “She looked sad. You should talk to her.”

“I do talk to her, John. She dropped by the shop yesterday morning, we spoke.” I tell him, but my attention is caught by Dean’s apparent struggles to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“I still don’t get why you broke up with her.” John mutters and I even though I concentrate on frowning at him, I still notice Dean snap his head up and stare at me. Right, I haven’t told him about that.

“You think now’s the best time to talk about that?” I ask John in carefully composed voice. He knows me well enough to notice I’m pissed and back off.

“Sorry, you’re right.” He nods and turns to Dean, who’s still staring at me. “I’m sorry Dean, you don’t know Emma, of course, but she is a great girl, I just don’t know what is Em thinking…”

“John.” I hiss, but Dean interrupts me.

“I’m sure she is.” He says looking at John. “But you know, sometimes it just doesn’t click. Not that I’m saying this is what happened between you guys.” He’s looking at me again and I sigh.

“We went on couple of dates, it didn’t work out. Now that we discussed my personal life, can we perhaps move to another topic? Maybe political views, religion or money would be of your liking?” I growl at John. “Or maybe we should discuss gender equality, or racial issues, or drug use, or maybe the image of Catholic Church in our society would go well with steaks?”

I’m so pissed I’m almost shaking. I know theoretically that parents can get on your nerves, but I’ve never had this with John, so it’s surprising how angry I am at his prodding. And I think it’s because of how pissed I am that Dean reacts the way he does without thinking. He reaches out at wraps his hand around my wrist to steady me. And I do relax at once, that is, I do relax before I notice John staring at our joined hands. I pull my hand out of his hold gently and his eyes widen in realization of what just happened. He blushes, actually blushes and I swear it would be adorable any other time, but as it is, I’m pretty much speechless, my mind completely blank at how to proceed. Luckily, Dean recovers quickly.

“Relax, man.” He says in his lightest tone and then laughs. “This reminds me of the fights I used to have with my old man. I don’t think there’s anyone else that could get under your skin as much as parents do. It’s because they care so much.”

“He’s right, Em, and I’m sorry.” John says finally and has a good grace to actually look sorry. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah, alright.” I mutter and then take a deep breath. “Can we please get over this and move to something resembling dinner talk?”

And it is easier after that. John asks Dean how long is he planning to stay and Dean just shrugs saying he still has couple of days left of the holidays and that maybe his brother will join him shortly for a ride back home. I ask John how did the sermon go this morning and he tells me that Josh, a neighbor who’s been building a shed, proposed to his long time girlfriend Rachel and that they came to him after the sermon to share the happy news and to set the date for the wedding. Then Dean and John talk about baseball – something I have no interest in – and somewhere in the middle of all this Dean puts his hand on my thigh, a steady grounding weight that keeps me anchored.

We manage to get through the rest of the dinner without any more incidents and if John keeps shooting me a contemplative or downright questioning looks when Dean and I smile or look at each other, it’s easy to ignore.

When we finally get back to my home it’s already dark outside. It’s a relief to close the door behind my back and even more of the relief to pull Dean into my arms and kiss him and be kissed with the same neediness. There’s no real intent behind those kisses, but it feels amazing to simply touch and kiss him. We move to the living room and flop on the couch still holding on to each other. It’s awkward as hell and we both chuckle as I move back to settle in properly.

“So, were the steaks worth it?” I ask with a grin.

“I gotta say, that man knows how to cook.” He nods. “But… I mean it freakin’ was too much like meeting the parents sort of thing.”

“I warned you.” I laugh. “And no, it wasn’t. You think he suspected something?”

“I don’t know, man. I didn’t grope you in public – I’m gonna count it as a win.” We both laugh again and then Dean smirks. “So, you broke up with your girlfriend?”

“I never had a girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t think we had a chance anyway, not after I met you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Do you even have to ask? I mean ever since I saw you that first time in the shop, remember?” He nods and I carry on. “I thought I knew you. You stood there looking for something – what was it? Salt, hammer? Anyway, you stood there and I could’ve sworn I knew you, I just didn’t know how. And then you looked at me and… You’re in my head ever since.”

Dean laughs, but there’s a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks and I can see he’s pleased.

“You’re a sap.” Is what he says, but he pulls me closer to him so that my back is pressed against his chest and he’s resting his head on my shoulder. I relax into his embrace. Dammit, do I love it!

“Why didn’t you tell me about Emma?” He asks finally and I shrug. “Honestly? I didn’t think you’d care.”

“What? Why?” He bristles.

“Well, for one you kept reminding me I have a girlfriend. I thought that you… I don’t even know. I think I assumed you did that so I know you’re not really interested, so you don’t give me the wrong idea or something.”

“Yeah, no, that’s not it.” He nips at my jaw and then sighs somewhat resolutely. “Ok, I’m gonna go all mushy on you now, so feel free to stop me anytime… So here’s the thing… I don’t usually… let people… become important. To me, that is. There ain’t many people I care about and the ones I do… Well they don’t usually end up alright. Like my mom and dad, or Ellen and Jo, or now… Bobby. So I don’t let people be important. And then I met you and… You know about Cas and stuff… But then it’s not just Cas, it’s you too, I mean you, Emmanuel. Fuck it, I know I’m not making any sense here, but… Look, what I’m trying to say is that I think you’re awesome. As in really, really awesome and it scares the fuck out of me, because I don’t want to let you go. So I kept reminding you of Emma, because I thought that as long as you had that, there was nothing important here. And even though it pissed me off to think of you and Emma, I also kind of thought it was better this way.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and I turn to look at him. “And was it? Better?’

“No. It wasn’t freakin’ better, because I was kidding myself, Em. You’re already important, it’s as easy as that. And I don’t know when or how did you manage to wriggle yourself into my life, but you’re there and it doesn’t matter what I tell myself anymore.”

“So what happens now?”

“Fuck if I know.” He laughs shakily. “All I know is that I'm glad you broke it off, because I’m sick and tired of imagining you with that girl when all I want is you right here.” And this is where I kiss him. It was meant to be just a peck, but I don’t seem to be able to stop, so I kiss him again and again, until our lips are sore and tender and I’m practically in his lap. Apparently I have the tendency to crawl onto him. I sigh.

“Em?” He asks carefully. “I gotta ask. I’m not delusional, am I? You’re in this too, right?”

I chuckle and cup his face in my hands.

“You’re not delusional, Dean. It scares me how much ‘in’ I am. It feels like… falling. I feel like I’m fallen.” I tell him seriously and I notice how much his eyes widen in surprise. “It’s an interesting choice of words.” He mutters, but then shakes his head and kisses me again. “I don’t want you to fall, never did. I just… I want you. And it’s been a while since I let myself want anything.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I want you too. It feels right, you know? Like this is how it’s supposed to be, as foolish as it sounds.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He sighs, kisses me and then smirks. “Ok, I think we should really stop this emo crap, because seriously man, it’s not just gay anymore, I can almost feel myself growing lady bits!”

I laugh at that and try to move away to give him some space. Dean frowns and pulls me closer once again. “Hey, I didn’t mean move. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but… I like it when you’re in my space.”

“You’re a cuddler, you know that?” I laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I just found out I might be a bit gay couple of months back, I think I’m allowed.” He grunts.

“Gay, huh?” I trail my lips down his jaw and nibble on his neck. “What might’ve given you that idea?”

“Um… I don’t know. I think the boner I popped that time I cornered you in the bathroom was my first clue. Or, you know, the fact that I kissed you. Or that I had sex with you. And there’s this little thing where I can’t let you out of my hands apparently… Yeah, I think I had some clues...” He laughs and I join in.

“Hmm, yes Dean, it does sound kind of gay.” I deadpan and then laugh at his frown. “Even though you, most certainly, are not.”

“What do you mean? I’m sitting here with a lap full of dude and I’m fucking happy about that.” He scowls and I kiss him lightly.

“Ok, let me put it this way – some time ago you mentioned you’re not precisely used to being with a guy and you just told me you found out you might be gay couple of months back, so I’m safe to assume you haven’t been in sexual or romantic relationship with a man before, right?” He nods and I continue. “Based on what I have noticed so far, I can also safely assume you haven’t led a celibate life as well?” Dean scoffs at that and shakes his head. “Well then unless you’re much more perverse than you let on and you have an unhealthy liking for the animals or whatever else there is, I think it’s safe to say you like women.”

“Dude!” He blanches and I laugh as he splutters. “Animals! Seriously?!”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” I kiss him again, even though he still bristles with indignation. “Anyway, what I was trying to say is that if your usual choice of sexual partners is women, you can hardly think you’re gay, can you?”

“Yeah, but Em… My choice of sexual partners, as you put it, lately is limited to one person only and that person happens to be a guy. How’s that not gay?”

“Well, I’m hardly the best person to talk to about that, and seriously, this is nearing birds and bees talk, but anyway I think if a man is attracted to a woman, and I’m sure you are, based on our bar experience, then that said man isn’t gay.”

“So what, you think I’m bi? I thought bi is someone who can’t accept he’s gay.” He frowns again and I roll my eyes. “The point I was trying to make is that you shouldn’t label yourself. And you’re being offensive to bi.”

“You sound like Sammy.” He says with a smirk and then sighs. “Speaking of which, I should better call him. I’m sure he’s pissed at me for leaving.”

“Then you really should speak to him.” I move away from his hold and Dean digs his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna go to your bedroom to speak to him, ok?”

“Sure,” I nod, “I’ll put a movie on so you can join me when you’re done.”

Dean nods and I can see he’s already distracted, thinking of his brother. He goes to my room and as I said I put the movie on to block any sounds as I don’t want to eavesdrop.

It takes nearly half an hour for Dean to return. He’s flustered and anxious and I know it didn’t go as well as he wanted.

“Is everything alright?” I ask and after a moment Dean nods.

“Yeah, he’ll come.” He sits down beside me, pulls me closer and whispers. “He’s… He’s a mess. I shouldn’t have left.”

“You need to take care of yourself too.” I tell him quietly. “And when he comes here, take care of him. I’ll try to help. I’m not sure if this thing I can do works on everyone, but I promise to at least try.”

Dean nods and is otherwise silent for a long time. Finally, he exhales heavily and relaxes against me.”We’ll make it work.” He tells me and I feel my lips tug into a smile. I kiss his temple and echo him. “We’ll make it work.”


	14. Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so now that the story is largely finished, I'll be posting every Thursday until it's done.  
> Also - there's smut in the end of this chapter, just so you know ;)

Monday

 

“So when is Sam coming?” I ask settling down in the kitchen. I try to ignore my insides doing a crazy sort of flipping and flopping at the sight of Dean waiting for me at home with the dinner he made. He spent half of the day with me at the shop, but after lunch he said he wanted to get some things done and we agreed to meet at home.

“Tonight. He’s coming by bus, so he’s only here at 11.” He says flopping beside me. “I hope you like pancakes for dinner, by the way.”

“I’ve never had pancakes for dinner, but I’m pretty sure the taste is not affected by the timing of the day.”

“Tell that to Sammy.” He laughs.

“Yes, about that. What did you tell Sam? I mean as to why you’re here.”

“Didn’t have to explain much, actually. I told him I’ve been visiting you and he…” Dean shifts uncomfortably. “He didn’t even ask anything. He thinks it’s because of Cas.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue, the question of how much of it is actually because of his Cas, but I bite my tongue and ask something else. “So what do you prefer – the couch or the guest room?”

“Dude! Are you kicking me out of your bed? Sam knows shit about why I’m here!” He growls and I tilt my head and blink at him couple of times before it finally hits me and I start laughing.

“But that’s precisely the point!” I laugh again and then kiss him, because his confused expression is just too adorable. “I’m not kicking you out of my bed. If anything, I’d like you to stay in my bed as long as possible. But I doubt your brother won’t realize we kind of have a thing if you sleep in my room. And I told you – this is not about that, I asked you to invite him, because I really believe you both need a change of scene and you two need to be together.”

“Dammit, you’re right, he doesn’t know… I don’t know, couch I suppose? Sam’s built like a tree, I don’t think he’d fit on your couch. But seriously, I think he’ll figure it out in a couple of days anyway. He’s crazy smart, you’ll see. And he usually knows things about me even before I know them myself.”

“The way you talk about him… Your life hasn’t been easy, has it? I’m just glad you have someone you care so much about in your life.”

“Well… yeah, I guess… I mean I practically raised the kid, you know? My dad… He wasn’t around that much, not since my mom died. Hunters don’t exactly have normal childhood and ours… It plain sucked. Sam’s the only family I’ve got left and I would literally do anything to keep him. As in anything at all.”

“I’m sure he’d do the same for you.”

“Yeah, and fat good it did us in the past.”

“You’re alive.” I tell him simply, because even with those few things he’d told me, I know that being alive at this point is an achievement at the very least. More likely – a miracle.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He scoffs.

“Do you want to talk about that? Tell me your story?”

“Nah, it’ll take me ages and I really, really rather just have dinner with you, then see a movie or you know, read something or whatever.”

“I could get used to this, you know?” I tell him honestly and my insides flip over once again. “It would really be so easy to get used to having you in my life.”

“You’re gonna go all sappy on me, aren’t you?” He chuckles, but the look in his eyes is soft and warm.

“You started it, so don’t complain.” I grin and plant a small kiss on the corner of his lips. “These are really good, by the way.” I motion to the pancakes and take another bite,

“Sure, they’re good! I made them.”

I laugh again. “Yes, you’re awesome. Look, how about we go to the movies after dinner? We have some time until Sam’s here.”

“Yeah, alright. It’s been ages since I've been to the movies. Even longer since I made out with someone in the back row.”

“I’m not promising you that, there might be people I know. Besides, what are we, teenagers?”

“Dude, what does the age have to do with anything? It’s like a rule, ok? You take someone to the movies – you make out with them in the back row.”

“Yeah, alright.” I roll my eyes and think of the time I took Emma to the movies. It wasn’t precisely the back row, but there was making out. I change that train of thought, because thinking of Emma still makes me feel guilty. “You know, I like how you relax the longer you’re here.”

“Well, it seems you are a good influence on me after all.” He laughs and after that we eat the rest of our pancakes in comfortable silence.

 

 

“Oh come on, man! You gotta love Rambo!” Dean groans and I roll my eyes.

“Dean, I am serious – just choose whatever you want. I’ve never seen Rambo and I have no clue what that is, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine with your choice. As long as it’s not the romantic comedy thing or whatever it’s called, I’m in.”

“Nah, we’re not gonna see Rambo, it’s like classics, it’s not on. Is just… how don’t you know Rambo? I mean you know Die Hard and Terminator.”

“You can hardly expect I have seen all the movies in last 8 months. I’ve watched Star Trek and Harry Potter, courtesy of Brian, and I’ve watched Die Hard, Lord of the Rings and Terminator courtesy of Tom. And many others in between, but I really haven’t seen everything there is…”

“Yeah, no, I get it. But still, Rambo… I’ll make sure you see it some other time then. Ok, now for today, how ‘bout that flick with Bullock? Gravity?”

“Gravity?” I chuckle. “Sounds ominous.”

“I don’t know, I think it should be alright.”

“Ok then, let’s see Gravity.” I agree and we finally step to the counter to get the tickets. It’s when we move to the line to get popcorn that I actually notice them. Tom and Emma are getting the tickets, both looking slightly uncomfortable. I look at them for a moment longer and then as Dean tugs at my arm repeating the question I clearly missed, Tom spots me. He freezes momentarily, but then shakes himself out of it and motions Emma to come closer to where Dean and I stand.

“Em! I… We weren’t expecting to see you here.” Tom says as they come over. He looks slightly embarrassed, but Emma actually looks pleased. I smile at them both. “It’s really good to see you both.” I tell them and hear Dean clear his throat.

“This is Dean. Don’t know if you remember him – he’s one of the agents investigating Brian’s death.”

Dean nods and shakes hands with both Emma and Tom.

“I didn’t know you knew each other.” Tom says frowning slightly.

“Well, no, we don’t really know each other.” I laugh. “Dean came back to town couple of days back; he’s still investigating the case. I ran into him on my way home from work and…”

“And he offered me a couch to stay on.” Dean continues with a smile. “The folks in small towns are crazy hospitable, I might say.”

“Yeah, well that’s just Em, I think.” Emma smiles at me warmly. I feel both Dean and Tom tense up so I move on quickly. “That’s not true – John took me in.”

Emma’s eyes widen at that and Tom’s frown deepens.

“I wasn’t aware this is something you were sharing now.” He says glancing at Dean quickly.

“No, not really. But I don’t like lying and Dean asked so… Anyway, Dean’s met John – we went for steaks there yesterday. I think it was highly educational for Dean to be on the other end of interrogation for a change.” I chuckle and Dean grins brightly, while Tom and Emma laugh.

“So John pulled a protective father bit?” Tom asks.

“You know him.” I smile and Tom laughs again.

“Oh yeah! He sat Brian and me for a talk after the first time we took you drinking. That’s an experience I’m not willing to repeat.” His face becomes serious again and the next second it’s as if I can literally hear John talking through him. “Boys, I know you two mean well and I’m happy you’re friends with Emmanuel, but he’s different so don’t you dare do anything stupid!”

All four of us laugh.

“Anything stupid!” I muse. “Like trying to get me wasted perhaps? Emma and I had to carry you two home!”

“And I still don’t know how you managed to out drink us…”

“You’re a lightweight, that’s how.” I chuckle. “Anyway, I think we should better head in, the movie is about to start and we wouldn’t want to get in the middle of your date.”

“It’s not…” Tom starts.

“We’re not on the date.” Emma says firmly. “I actually texted you asking if you wanted to come with us.”

“Oh…” I mutter. “I must’ve missed that.”

Dean bristles.

“Um… I don’t want to be dick about this, but I promised Em popcorn and the movie is about to start so…”

“Right, we should be going too.” Tom agrees at once and motions Emma towards the entrance. She looks back at me for a few seconds longer and then with a sigh goes with Tom.

“That girl sure wants you…” Dean mutters when they’re out of earshot. “And that guy sure wants her.”

“I think Tom’s had a crush on Emma for a long time now, but she… Well, I hope they can make it work. Emma’s amazing and Tom’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, whatever keeps her hands off you.” He mumbles frowning and I grin at him. “It’s you I want. And now let’s go see that movie.” I whisper and in the next 2 hours I discover just how amazing “Gravity” is. Even more so, when you spend half of it silently making out with someone you’re pretty sure you’re in love with.

 

 

I pace nervously across my living room as I wait for Dean to come back with Sam. He drove to the station to bring him over and although I offered to go with, he refused. I think he wanted to talk to him before they both came here and I’m nervous that Sam might not like me. It ridiculous, of course, to be so self conscious about it, but Sam is the most important person in Dean’s life and I really want him to like me. I can’t imagine Dean coming back to see me if I don’t get along with his brother and it frightens me quite a bit. I scowl at myself for not asking Dean if Sam got along with this Cas guy – surely if they were ok, Sam wouldn’t be inclined to dislike me. But what if they didn’t? So here I am, pacing nervously and freaking out, even though I know I’m being ridiculous.

When I finally hear my front door being unlocked I tense up, then take a deep breath and walk into the hall.

“Em,” Dean says with a small strained smile, when he sees me, “this is my brother Sam. Sam – Emmanuel.”

Sam steps forward then and I extend my hand in greeting.

“Hello, Sam, I’ve heard a lot about you.” I shake his hand with a smile, but at the same time I can’t help but notice he looks pale and tired. There are very prominent circles under his eyes and his cheeks are hollowed as if he wasn’t eating enough. All in all, he doesn’t look good, but what startles me the most is the radiating pain I feel pulsing within him. It’s different than Dean’s, it’s not just loss that’s eating at him, but I’ve no idea what that is and if I could help at all.

“Emmanuel.” He nods tightly and shakes my hand. “Dean… Well, I can’t say I heard a lot, but Dean mentioned some.”

“Yeah, alright.” Dean mutters. “How ‘bout we actually come in?”

“Oh, sure.” I shake my head. “Sam, I have a guest room ready for you, perhaps you want to put your things there? Also, do you want something to eat or drink maybe?”

“No, it’s alright, I'm not hungry. If you show me the way, I’ll just put my stuff and maybe have some tea?”

“Sure.” I nod and walk him to the spare room that was never even used since I moved in. “Here. And the bathroom is down the hall. Get settled and I’ll prepare you some tea.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” He says and closes the door behind him. I turn around to see Dean’s worried expression and I tug his arm to walk him to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask quietly. “Is he ill?”

“He’s…” Dean starts and then shakes his head. “He’s not ill, he just… He doesn’t sleep well.”

“It’s more than that and I’m pretty sure you know it.” I tell him firmly putting the kettle on the stove. I don’t usually push him like that, but I need to know what’s wrong with Sam to have at least the slightest chance to help him. Dean is silent though and when I turn to look at him I see he’s… glaring at me. I recoil and take a step back; I’ve never seen him look at me like that.

“Dean?” I ask carefully.

He drops his gaze and his shoulders sag a little. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong. He just doesn’t sleep well and… I don’t know.”

I briefly wonder if I should ask him why he was looking at me like that, but decide against it. There are more pressing matters. “Did you tell him about what I can do?”

“No. Didn’t come up.” He mutters defensively refusing to look at me and I step closer.

“Dean, what’s happening here? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… Look, let’s just make that goddamned tea, alright?”

I look at him for a moment longer and then nod and step away again. “What kind of tea does your brother like?”

“Do you have green tea?” I hear a voice from the doorway and as I turn I see Sam leaning against the wall there.

“I think so.” I smile at him. “I’m actually a coffee person, but my friend Brian liked tea better so he stocked my kitchen with it the third time I offered him coffee.”

“Brian? Is that the guy…” He trails off and I nod. “Yes, Brian was one of my best friends. He used to spend a lot of time here.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were close.”

“Yeah, well… And I haven’t even thanked you for killing the creature that did that to him. Or for saving my life.” I pour the boiling water into a cup, dunk in the teabag and walk over to give it to Sam. “Thank you.” I tell him.

He takes the cup and offers me a small smile.

“It’s what we do. And you’re welcome.” He settles at the kitchen table and I look at Dean.

“Do you want tea?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, do you still have beer?”

I hand him a beer, make myself cup of coffee and sit down at the table.

“Um… So, how was your trip?” I ask Sam just to interrupt the deafening silence that settled in my kitchen.

“It was alright, I suppose.” Sam says and they’re both silent again. Now, I know I’m not the most social of people, but seriously, even for me it’s getting difficult. So I take a deep breath and tell Sam. “Dean’s told me about your loss, I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks.” He mutters and I continue. “The reason I bring this up is that I may be able to help a little. There’s this thing… I don’t know how to explain it, but… It makes people feel better.”

“Are you offering me drugs?” He asks incredulously and Dean snorts.

“No, he’s not. Em can… I don’t know what it is he does, but when he did it to me, I felt better.”

“It’s like I will the pain to abide.” I tell him. “I don’t even know if it works on everyone and if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t, but… It might make you feel better and honestly… You look like you could do with feeling better.”

He gives me a long, contemplative look. It’s strange, that look. He assesses me, I think. Finally, he nods. “Don’t think it could hurt much more.”

I nod and step closer to him, extending my hand towards his shoulder. It’s a careful move, I don’t know him at all and I don’t feel too comfortable, but his reaction startles me. He recoils, stumbling back, almost falling backwards. The next instant Dean is between us, his face hard as he stops me, his hand shoving me at my chest with the hissed “Back off!”. I take couple of steps away from them, my gaze flicking from one to another. I don’t understand what’s happening. They treat me like a threat! I mean, I know I’m not the most threatening type to begin with and for crying out loud – Dean knows me! I woke up in his arms this same morning; he kissed me senseless before going to the station, so what the hell is going on?

“You ok?” Dean asks his brother and Sam nods frantically. Dean looks at me then and takes a step towards me, but it’s now my turn to step back. “Shit, Em, I’m…” He starts, but I shake my head.

“It’s alright.” I tell them both as calmly as possible, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. My heart is hammering in my chest, I’m confused and frankly, hurt, but I try to ignore all this. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine, I wouldn’t force it on you. I suppose I should’ve told you I have to touch you to do it.”

Sam shakes his head apologetically. “Sorry, man, I overreacted. It’s been long couple of weeks and I’m jumpy. Really, sorry.”

“Em…” Dean starts again, but I ignore him. I can’t deal with it right now.

“It’s alright, Sam. Just tell me when and if you want to try.”

“I…” He mumbles. “Now, I want to try now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m really sure. I will try whatever.” He says firmly and I can feel his pain again.

“Ok, so I’ll just touch the back of your hand then, alright?” I ask tentatively and he nods. I step closer, swerving around Dean, who watches me with strange expression on his face. I ignore him.

When my fingers touch Sam’s hand, I’m hit with the pain so intense I’ve never felt before. I jerk my hand away and take a couple of steadying breaths, staring at him. I can’t imagine how he can function with such pain at all. I reach out again, bracing myself for it, but it still leaves me breathless. I shut my eyes and concentrate, trying to find the source of it, but all I can feel is the raw, tearing pain and inexplicably I think about skinned flesh, exposed and tingling and burning. I can’t see the source, but I still concentrate on abiding it, diminishing it as much as I can. It fights me, intensifying and then giving in just to intensify again. I grit my teeth against it and will, with all my being, for it to subside and with a jolt of joy I feel it give in. I push and push until I’m breathless, panting and sweating, but I don’t stop, because there’s just so much of it. I only let go when I can no longer concentrate. I feel exhausted, as if I just ran a marathon or something. My hands are shaking and my knees are wobbly, but as I look at Sam’s face, his look of relief makes it all worth it.

“Oh my God!” He exhales and I brace myself against the countertop to stop myself from falling. I can literally feel my knees buckling under me and it takes all my remaining strength to keep standing.

“Better?” I breathe and Sam nods frantically. “Yeah! So much better! I… I think I can sleep now!”

“Yeah, you and me both.” I chuckle tiredly and then feel Dean’s arm wind itself around my waist to keep me standing. I shrug him off without looking at him and with the remaining bits of energy I force myself to stand firmly. “I can try again tomorrow.” I tell Sam. “I know it’s not done, but I don’t think I can do much more today.”

“Man, I didn’t think it would exhaust you like that! Whatever you did – thanks! Really!” And before I know it he’s hugging me. I’m startled at first, but I’m just so incredibly tired that I sag a little letting him do the standing. A moment later, I pull myself together, step away and try to concentrate.

“Alright, now if you don’t mind, I really could use some sleep. Sam,” I turn to him, “I left a fresh towel for you in the bathroom. Your bed is done, but if you need anything else, just take it.”

Sam nods at me and I turn to Dean, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Dean, I put the sheets and pillows for you on the couch and you know where pretty much everything is, so just… I don’t know, help yourself.” With that I force my wobbly legs take me to my bedroom, trying to walk as firmly as possible, and I shut the door closed behind me.

 

Tuesday early morning

 

I don’t wake up with the usual jolt of fear, that’s always there when I'm alone, but I don’t wake up languidly and slowly as I do when Dean’s here. Instead, I wake up with the start, because I’m jostled awake by someone sliding beside me in my bed. I freeze momentarily, still not used to having someone there, but then relax realizing who this is.

“Dean.” I mutter groggily. “Did I yell again? Did I wake you?”

“No.” He mumbles wedging his thigh between my legs and settling pretty much on my chest. “I couldn’t sleep. I was lying there on the couch and you’re just a few feet away and I just couldn’t… I was a dick to you and I’m sorry.” He kisses me then, softly, a bit hesitantly, but I melt against him anyway. “I’m sorry.” He mutters again trailing kisses down my neck. I bare my neck to him and he growls silently, latching his mouth at the hollow of my neck, sucking the mark there.

“Will you explain?” I ask trying to remain coherent while running my hands up his sides, under his t-shirt.

“Yeah, alright.” He mumbles, still nipping at my neck. “It was… I just…”

“Later.” I groan and flip us over so I have him pinned under me. He lets out a surprised yelp at that and I clamp my hand over his mouth. “Shh, you’ll wake Sam.” I mutter, but I don’t stop trailing my lips down his neck to his collarbone.

“Sam’s dead to the world. Whatever you did, he’s finally sleeping. And please, let’s not talk about him when we’re doing this.” He pants against my palm and as I suck on his collarbone, he lets out a soft whimper. I slide my hands under his shirt and pull on it, trying to get the offending fabric out of the way. Dean pushes up, so I can get it off and pulls on my t-shirt too. A second later we’re pressed together, chest to chest, skin on skin and I feel dizzy with the need I have for this man. He mumbles something incoherently as I travel down his body, licking and sucking on the way. He’s so beautiful, so breathtakingly beautiful to me that part of me just can’t believe I get to have him like this. I’m not allowed to dwell on that, though, because the sounds he makes when my mouth closes on his nipple ignites the familiar burning knot in the pit of my stomach. He arches his back as I tease the sensitive nub with my tongue and teeth and before I know it he has his hands in my hair tugging me up. I chuckle silently and move down instead, nipping and biting until I reach the waistband of his boxers.

“These, off…” I growl and he lifts his hips obediently so I can pull them off. I hum in excitement at the sight of him laid bare in front of me, needy and aching for me.

“How do you want this to go?” I ask him latching my mouth on his hipbone. He whimpers silently, shuddering as I suck the droplets of blood to the surface of the sensitive skin there. He mutters something, but I can’t hear him properly, so instead I run my tongue along the crease of his groin, marveling at the sensation of soft skin and coarse hair. He smells of my soap, which I understand shouldn’t be so hot, but it somehow still is. I can’t stifle a soft moan that escapes my own lips as I run my tongue over the warm weight of his balls and then finally, finally I close my mouth over the head of his throbbing dick. He tastes of him, the addictive taste that I just can’t get enough of, so I suck and lick every last bit of the pre-come before I start moving up and down, sucking on him, putting as much pressure as I can with my tongue. The moan he lets out is way too loud, but I can’t bring myself to care or stop. I don’t know how long it takes, time ceases meaning at this point, all I know is I could do this all my life; I doesn’t matter that my jaw aches, that it’s a bit messy and hardly too coordinated, that my own erection is painfully hard by now, all that matters is his taste, his scent and the sounds of pleasure and abandon that he makes. I suck and lick and scrape my teeth at the base of his cock and he moans and whines and bucks his hips, carding his fingers through my hair, holding me, urging me on. When I speed up though, he tugs at me and pulls me up. I release his dick with a silent pop and lick at it one last time before looking up. He pulls me up so I’m straddling him and then his mouth is on mine, tongue sliding in, caressing me, tasting himself on my tongue. I moan into his mouth and he moans right back.

“I want…” He mutters and even in the darkness of my room I can see he’s blushing. “Can we…”

“Tell me.” I ask him. “Tell me what you want.”

“Um…” He mumbles and then latches his mouth onto my throat again. I take his face in my palms and look at him steadily, trying to squelch the urge to carry on tasting and kissing and claiming him. Finally, his eyes meet mine. “Tell me what you want, Dean.”

“You, goddammit!” He mutters resigned. “I want you.”

“You have me.” I tell him simply and I see something shift in his eyes. Suddenly, there’s this false bravado, false smile on his face, even though his hands are still caressing my back, drawing circles on my hipbones.

“Fuck me.” Is what he says, but he makes it a challenge, a dare. I frown and pull back.

“What’s happening, Dean?” I ask him slowly, pulling away. There’s a flash of panic in his eyes and his grip tightens on me. “Don’t, don’t…” He pleads and I lean back into him, brushing my lips softly against his.

“Talk to me, Dean. What’s wrong?” I hold his face between my hands and make him look at me. He sighs heavily.

“I’ve never… I never had anyone fuck me.” He forces out. “But ever since that call, you know, when you were at Emma’s, I can’t stop thinking about it. You said you want to fuck me and I… I want to try.”

I kiss him again, slowly, but deeply, trying to comfort him, but miserably failing at stopping at that. Instead I lick into his mouth and suck on his tongue and run my fingers through his hair until we’re both panting again.

“Are you sure?” I ask him between kisses and he nods. I smile at him and I’m pretty sure I have my ‘I just won a jackpot’ face on, because he chuckles silently. And just like that all the tension leaves us and we latch onto one another once again. When I finally release him, we’re both breathless, needy and achingly hard. I lean over to the nightstand to get the lube and condoms I bought couple of days back. He cocks his eyebrow at me and I grin.

“I was hopeful.” I tell him and he laughs, his hands never leaving me. “And just so we’re clear – I don’t fuck. Never did, not going to start now.”

I settle between his thighs and push them wider apart. He squirms slightly, but then relaxes again and smirks. “Are you making love to me then?”

I wrap my hand around his dick and give him a couple of slow, teasing pulls, chuckling when he bucks his hips encouragingly.

“Nah, I’m realistic, we’re having sex.” I pop the lid of the bottle and squeeze decent amount of the stuff onto my hand. It’s cold, so I brush my fingers together to warm it up a bit. I look up at his eyes to see him watching me closely, eager but somewhat worried expression on his face.

“I’ll make it good.” I promise. “And you can always stop me if you don’t like it, ok?”

He nods with a small smile and I lean in to lick across the head of his dick at the same time as my slicked finger draws circles around his hole. I open my mouth to suck him in and simultaneously push my finger in all the way slowly, yet firmly. Dean lets out surprised moan and tries to both buck into my mouth and my finger. I start moving up and down, licking and sucking gently, not putting too much pressure on it, because I don’t want it to be over too soon. At the same time I work my fingers into him, slicking him up and loosening him. I have two of my fingers working easily in and out by the time I hit the bundle of nerves deep inside him and he freezes momentarily and then groans. I let go of his dick and instead brush against that spot again and again watching his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

“Em!” He moans, his body shuddering all over. “God dammit! How is that even… Ah…”

He arches his back and bucks on my fingers, urging me on.

“Come on, Em!” He mutters. “I’m ready, come on!”

“I don’t know if you meant it as an insult, but I’m considerably bigger than that.”

“Of course you are, big boy!” He smirks and I brush my fingers across his prostate some more until he’s incoherent again. Finally, I add the third finger and stretch him carefully. The moan I get from him is more than I can take and my hips buck against his thigh on their own accord. I pull my fingers out and wipe them off. He looks up at me with an expectant smile and I can no longer see worry in his eyes. I kiss him, plunging my tongue in to warm wetness of his mouth and as he snakes his arms around me, pulling me down on him, I can help but marvel at the impossibility of this moment. I have him right here, beautiful, ready and willing. How the hell can I be so lucky?

I don’t have time to ponder on that, because he urges me on with his entire body. So I lean back and grab the condom. Before I can tear it open though, his hand closes around mine. I look up and he’s blushing again. I can’t read him though – he doesn’t look like he wants me to stop, but at the same time he’s hesitant.

“What is it?” I ask encouragingly. “You want me to stop?”

“What? No!” He shakes his head at once. “No, that’s not it. I just… Look, I… Oh, fuck it! I don’t fuck around and I’m clean, so if you’re clean and if… You know, if you’re not ‘having sex’” he actually does the quote marks, “with anyone else, we could maybe skip the condom?”

I stare at him for a second longer and then I chuckle silently.

“I really, really would like that.” Is what I tell him and he beams despite blushing furiously. I settle between his thighs and get the lube once again. When I’m all slicked up, I grab his hips and he wraps his legs around my waist, giving me better access. And then I’m pushing in, slowly, carefully. He’s tight, really, really tight, but his body stretches and pulls allowing me in and that sight alone is nearly enough to get me off. When I’m fully in, I stop moving, letting him adjust. He’s wincing slightly and his legs tremble around me.

“Yeah, alright, big boy…” He mutters and takes a deep breath. I wrap my fingers round his dick and I jerk him couple of times, until he starts relaxing and responding again.

“Ok, ok.” He mutters. “Move.”

I grab his hips again and I start rocking into him, slowly at first, just a little pressure, but then he urges me on and I pretty much lose it. The fire in my stomach, which I held at bay while preparing him and letting him adjust, roars with full force now. There’s something animalistic, raw and possessive that takes over all the gentleness and I really can’t control it. He’s mine now, mine, and I want him all. I speed up, angling myself so I hit the spot in him with my every thrust and in no time he’s panting and moaning, and yet he urges me on and on and I just let it be. I slam into him again and again and somewhere in the back of my mind I know it’s going to hurt him tomorrow, but I can’t stop and he doesn’t want me to. He thrashes underneath me, moaning and whimpering and he’s never been more gorgeous than in this moment. The fire in me intensifies and I speed my thrusts even more as he grabs his dick, almost purple and leaking by now and starts jerking off in earnest. I concentrate on the fire, holding onto it, not allowing it overtake me, but it’s hard, because the next second Dean arches his back again and he’s coming, moaning my name and spasming, shuddering all over.

“Dean!” I growl and with the last bit of efforts I hold onto the fire in me as I thrust into him a few more times and my vision whites out with the force of the orgasm rocking through me.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Is the first thing I hear as I slump on him, my limbs suddenly liquid. We’re both sweaty and there’s his come sliding between us, but I can’t bring myself to care, not when he’s holding me tight against him, one of his hands brushing through my sweaty strands.

“Emmanuel.” I correct him with the tired smile and even though I can’t see that, I’m sure he’s rolling his eyes. “Was it… Was it ok?” I ask instead.

“Ok?” He sounds surprised. “You’re freakin’ kidding me, right? It was way better than ok! I swear, I blacked out for a moment there!”

I chuckle silently, then press a kiss to his chest and move to slide out of him, but he tightens his hold on me. I look up.

“Just… Just one more second.” He says not quite meeting my eyes and I plant more kisses to his neck and chest while he holds on.

“I never thought I’d… I didn’t think it’d be… Oh, fuck it! I liked it. I like having you in me as sappy as it sounds…” He mumbles awkwardly, but as I look up at him he looks at me as if it’s him who can’t believe he gets to be here with me. And then I just can’t help it, the words line up in my throat and get out before I can catch them, before I can reason with myself and tell myself what a stupid idea it is to tell him this.

“I love you.” Comes out unbidden, but truth nevertheless. We both freeze for a moment and I know it can’t be more than a few seconds, but it seems so much longer, so much time for me to think that I made a mistake, that he doesn’t want to hear this, that it doesn’t matter. I slide out of him and I’m about to apologize, to take it back, when he pulls me down and kisses me again and again. I relax in his arms, but he doesn’t let go, instead he kisses me until we’re sore with it and tired. I don’t need him to say anything, I know what he’s saying with his caressing hands and soft lips and insistent tongue. I let him have his say, I let him show me instead and even if I could choose to hear it, I’d never choose it, because his way of showing it is perfect, his way is more real than anything he could possibly say.


	15. Who I Am. Again

Tuesday morning

I wake up slowly and languidly and the first thing I do is smile. I'm alone in my bed, which is something I expected, and it doesn't dampen my mood the slightest. My muscles ache pleasantly and I feel sated and happy. I stretch and yawn lazily. I should be getting ready to go to work, but I just feel so good lying here that I indulge for a couple of minutes. I think I would've drifted back to sleep, but the voices in my kitchen are rising steadily until there's no pretending – they're fighting. I take a deep breath and get out of the bed. I can't find my sweatpants, even though I'm pretty sure I left them on the chair in the corner of my room, so I get into jeans and pull on a fresh t-shirt. I can't stop a smile that creeps onto my face as I remember how I cleaned up both of us with my yesterday's t-shirt. I shake my head, trying to clear it, and finally walk out of my bedroom.

I don't try to creep up on them, I have no intentions to eavesdrop, but they're pretty loud by this point and I can't help but hear what they are arguing about.

"Are you insane?" Sam all but growls at his brother. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Drop it, Sammy." Dean tells him calmly, but even I know him enough to notice he's angry and barely containing himself.

"Seriously? That's your reply? 'Drop it!'? Dean, what the hell is going on here?"

"Well, what do you want to hear?!" Dean snaps. "Isn't it kind of obvious I'm fucking this guy? Isn't that why you're on my case? Or do you want details? Should I be telling you the things he can do with his fingers when he's…"

"Jesus, Dean, no!" Sam blanches and even though I'm somewhat flustered by the defiance and hardness of Dean's words, I can't help the smile that curves my lips. I'm in the doorway by now, but Dean has his back to me, standing at the counter and looking at it. With a thrill I can't quite stifle I notice he's wearing my sweats, but this is so not the time to get excited about it even though he's shirtless and I can spot the marks I left on him. What I do notice though is the rigid tension in his shoulders and the rippling of his muscles as he clenches his fists. Sam's standing between us, his back to me too, and I don't know him really, but his posture is also tense and rigid.

"You do realize he's not Cas?" Sam asks carefully, and hey, that's exactly what I'd like to know too. Now, I know it's more than likely I actually am that Cas, but this thing I have for Dean… Well, yes, it's probably partly Castiel too, but it's not all there is. I might never remember, and really, I don't even want to remember, but I want Dean. Cas or not, I want him.

"I'm pretty sure he is." Is what Dean says at last. "But it's not what this is about."

"No? Then what is it about?" Sam asks desperately. "Dean! You've got to be realistic here!"

"Why? Why do I always have to be realistic?" Dean hisses and Sam sighs. He puts his hand on his brother's shoulder and I can see Dean's shoulders sag.

"Look, I know you cared about Cas." Sam starts carefully and I feel my insides freeze. I listen to them anyway waiting and hoping Dean would say it's not just about Cas. "But you know what happened. He did it to himself and he's gone. And I'm sorry about it, despite everything, I'm sorry, because I know he was a good guy in a shitty situation and most importantly, I know he meant worlds to you. But Dean… This guy here, he's not Cas. He looks just like him and I'm sure he's a great guy, but he's not him and you can't pretend that he is."

With the detached fascination I marvel at how quickly my happiness and elation evaporates, punctured and sucked out by each of Sam's words accompanied by Dean's shoulders, slumped in agreement to these words. He's not fighting it, not contradicting and despite how much I want to, I can't tell myself it's not what it is. How could I have misjudged him so? How could I have not seen none of this was about me? I always wanted to know how much of it was because of this Cas and I knew a lot of it was, but I never thought it was all there is. Now I know. Funny how this knowledge punches the breath out of me, how the happiness that filled my chest is replaced by hollow throbbing of loss and loneliness, how my hands start to shake with my efforts to keep me steady, not to break down right there. They're oblivious to my silent breakdown, they haven't noticed me yet and so Sam continues to unintentionally and unknowingly kick me while I'm down.

"And even if by some miracle he is Cas, he doesn't remember! I mean Dean, how can you do this to him? If he's not, then you're just using Emmanuel to remind you of the guy you used to care about and if he is, then you're taking advantage of the fact he doesn't remember! What if this is not what Cas would've wanted?"

I can see this hits the nerve and somewhere in the depths of my mind there's sarcastic little scoff – of course all he cares about is what this Castiel would've wanted. It's not about me, not the slightest; it has always been about him… I can't listen to this anymore, so I clear my throat and with same detached clinical attention I watch them whirl around and stare at me. I don't really know what it is I have on my face right now, but Sam looks a bit ashamed and apologetic, while Dean's eyes widen in shock. I think it's unconscious, the way he reaches for me, taking a step towards me, but I just drop my eyes and shake my head. This same night I told him I loved him and now here he is, standing in my kitchen, wearing my sweatpants and making coffee. I should be happy, but instead all I feel is hollow dread and the pain of my own heartbreak. It's sentimental and foolish to feel that way over something that was never real. It was never about me, never about us.

"Em, it's not what it looks like…" Dean starts, but I shake my head again and pull myself together.

"I don't…" My voice breaks and I flinch at it. I clench my fists forcing myself to keep it together. "I don't need explanations, it's fairly obvious at this point." I take a deep breath, still not looking any of them in the eye. "Look, I… Um… I know I invited you to stay, but I'd really appreciate if you both left before I come back from work." I look up at Sam and he's nodding silently. I can see compassion and regret in his eyes and that just hurts me more. "Before you leave though, Sam, can you step by the shop I work in? Dean knows the place. I'll try to help you a bit more. I'm not sure how much of the help I can be, but I can at least try."

"You don't have to." Sam says, but before I can respond, Dean interrupts. "I'm not leaving."

I turn to Dean, not meeting his eyes, staring at his side.

"Don't… Don't make it harder for me." I ask him trying and failing to sound composed. It's shameful how vulnerable I am, how easily he hurt me. I should have never let this happen, I should have never fallen. I turn back to Sam. "Step by the shop, I'll try to help you."

With that I turn and walk away to my room. I think Dean was about to come after me, because before I close the door to my room, I hear Sam say, "It's enough, Dean, let him be. You've done enough."

I step into the bathroom, close the door behind me and slide down against the door. I wrap my arms around my legs and try to hold on. I think I'm going into some kind of shock, I feel hollow and with my whole being I want to deny what had just happened. I can't though, there's no denying that all Dean wanted from me was a reminder of his Cas. It's surreal, how I got myself into this mess. For a while now I've been thinking I'm probably him, Castiel, but I don't want to be him, I don't want to remember who he was, because I think the fear that hovers above me every night is his.

I'm happy here, in this little town, surrounded by people that care about me. And I've been happier than ever with Dean being in their midst. Am I delusional then? Was it too much to hope to have this? Quiet little home, friends, family and a guy I love. And so what if part of what I feel for him is because of this Castiel? So what if it's some sort of connection they had is what drew me into him? What I feel for him is no less real because of that. Surely the reasons why I care about him are not that important; I'm in love with him and it hurts that I'm alone in this.

A quiet sob wrenches out of me as I can't hold it back anymore and jump up angry with myself. It is what it is – I just fell in love with the wrong guy. I told him first thing, I'm not going to be Castiel. He can pretend all he wants I'm him, after all I apparently pretended whatever there is between us was real, but I'm not going to actually be him. It's painful, this feeling of loss, but I'm not going to let it crush me. It was not even real, not even real. People go through ends of real relationships all the time; somehow I'll survive this fake one too. One step at the time and the first one is to take the shower and then get the hell out of here.

When I finally walk out of the bathroom, I find Dean sitting on my bed, waiting for me. He has his head in his hands, but when I close the door he looks up. I'm not surprised he's here, I mean I know he's a good guy, he must feel bad about how far out of hands it had gotten, but I wish he simply left, because there's really nothing he can say to make it better. I'm an idiot, it's all there is.

"You don't have to explain anything, Dean. I understand." I tell him silently.

"I'm sorry, Em." He says and I nod. I don't want his apologies, but I think maybe he needs to apologize anyway.

"It's alright. You haven't done anything wrong." I tell him and I believe it. He never lied to me, I always knew about Cas.

"No, I haven't." He agrees before he's suddenly in my space, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I'm so surprised I don't even try to get away. "But I didn't say it back yesterday and I think if I did then maybe you wouldn't have believed all this is not about you."

"What? What?" I ask stupidly, but then he's kissing me. There's still a hollow pain in my chest and my head is spinning, but I can't find it in me to push him away. He pulls back though, sooner than I would have wanted.

"But… I don't…" I stammer.

"Look, if you asked me if I think you're actually Cas, I'd say yes." He says and he walks me back to my bed. We sit down and he takes my hands into his. "I think we should have talked about this long ago, but… Anyway, I think you're him. Cas was… Special. He could do things people can't and you can do things too. He disappeared roughly at the same time you were found on that shore and the last time I saw him he was walking into that same reservoir. And you look exactly like him. So in all fairness it's no brainer – you are him. But at the same time… You're different. I think I've been in love with Cas for years and yet I never did anything about it. I even doubt I ever would have done anything, despite how much I wanted to, because he was so unattainable and he… I don't think he got what being in love really is. And then there's you, who I couldn't keep my hands off no matter how much I tried. It's you who I want, you who I keep coming back to. Do you understand this? It's a mess and it's complicated as hell, but Em, for me it's just as much about you as it is about Cas, because ultimately… You're him. I've known Cas for a long time and I've known him different. I can't explain that now, but I think whoever he is, or to make it perfectly clear, whoever  **you**  are, I will always want you." He kisses me again and looks at me expectantly, almost pleadingly. "So you can take this as me saying it's all about Cas, or you can take this as me saying that I'm happy I got the chance to meet this you and I'm fucking happy you love me, because… well, ditto."

I stare at him silently trying to work through the mess of jumbled emotions and feelings rushing through me. So it is about me? And it is about Castiel. And he's sure I'm him. Well, I've been pretty sure I'm him too, I just didn't want to be. And then he's been in love with Castiel for years and he thinks I'm him and he wants me and…

"Did you just tell me you love me with 'ditto'?" I finally ask and I can't keep the smile off my face.

"I don't do touchy feely." He shrugs with the wide smile and the next moment I lunge at him, kissing him and pushing him back until we're a mess of limbs laughing, kissing and rolling on the bed. It's such a relief I can't even put that into words. I'm so happy, so incredibly happy, because it's not just in my head, it's real and he's here and he wants me! Yeah, it's twisted and it's a giant mess and it's still because of Castiel, but... He loves me. Be as it may, ultimately I am Castiel and he loves me. When we finally calm down I have my head resting on his shoulder and I'm holding on to him still hesitant to let go.

"Em?" He asks. "I'm sorry I didn't explain it straight away. I wanted to get it sorted out in my head so you'd understand. I know it sounds horrible when I say it's all about Cas and you don't even remember being him, but to me it's all about you anyway. I'll take you anyway I can, Emmanuel, Cas, Castiel or anything in between as long as you let me."

"I didn't really give a chance to explain anyway." I tell him planting a kiss on his chest. "Don't worry about it, at least I know now. And you're right, it's such a mess…"

"Yeah, ok, but please, never look at me like that again."

"Like what?"

"Like I pulled your insides out and I'm twisting them into knots for fun."

"Damn, and I thought I managed to hide it." I frown. "They hurt, you know? The things Sam said and thinking you don't really care, that it's not even real."

"It's real. And I told you before, Sam knows shit about why I'm here." He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Well, now he knows, had to tell him."

"How did he even find out?" I ask Dean.

"I thought he was asleep." He sighs. "He must've woken up before I did and he was reading in the kitchen. I didn't know that and I know you have to get to work, so I thought I'd get some coffee for you and we could maybe drink it here. I looked around for my boxers, but I couldn't find them anywhere. By the way, I still don't know where they are. Anyway, I just pulled on your sweats and… It doesn't really take genius to figure there's something going on when one of us comes out of the other's bedroom covered in hickeys and wearing his sweats. And when the hell did you manage to suck one on my ribs?"

I chuckle at that.

"Right around the time you blacked out there for a moment, if I remember correctly."

"Smartass." He laughs. "By the way, how did you even know how to do it? I mean you said you don't remember having sex with anyone else."

"I googled it." I tell him and he laughs. "What? Would you rather I practiced with someone else?"

I swear, he growls at that and the next moment I'm under him, my hands pinned above my head.

"No." He mutters and then bites into my neck. "No, you're mine now."

I bare my neck obediently and he licks at it, bucking his hips into mine. I'm surprised to realize we're both half hard already and so I wriggle myself out of his hold.

"I have to go to work." I tell him apologetically. He sighs and flops down on the bed. "I know, I know…Hey, how about I come with you?"

"Dean, the whole purpose of bringing Sam here was for you two to be together. Your brother needs you, just stay with him."

He sighs heavily and closes his eyes.

"I'm not his favorite person right now. He knows how to get to me so when we fight it's usually ugly."

"About that – should I expect more conversations like that? Or is he going to try to tell me to let you be?"

"I don't think so." He frowns. "Sam likes all these feelings talks, but I made it pretty clear, I told him I'm not letting you go. He made a good point, though."

"What point?" I ask.

"He said that if you remember, you might not want this thing between us. And honestly, Em, I'm scared shitless that he's right."

"He's not." I tell him firmly and kiss him. "I might not know who Castiel is and what he remembers, but I know that what I have for you is real. And even him… I told you once that when I first saw you, you seemed familiar and… There's this pull I have towards you that was there from the first moment and I'm not an idiot, I know it can't have been mine."

"Yes, but… You don't even know me. You don't know who I am and what I did and… Cas knew and he was still my friend, but I'm scared that he wouldn't want this, because honestly, he, or you for that matter, can do so much better! There's no way in hell I'm worth having this and Sam's right, it's selfish and reckless of me to do this to you!"

"Stop. Just stop, Dean. You're right, I don't know what you did that repulse you so much and I can't argue with you on that, but whatever it is, it doesn't define you. I met a guy who's absolutely amazing. He's caring, affectionate, strong, sometimes ruthless. He cares about his family more than should be possible and he doesn't like himself very much. Now I don't know what your standards are, but apart from dislike for yourself, that's a pretty amazing guy in my books! So whatever you did, you're not that guy anymore. And if you're worried, just tell me everything. There's nothing I'd like more than knowing you!"

"I wish I could…" He says thoughtfully and then kisses me. "But no, not now anyway."

"Fine, then let me tell you something else that will maybe put you at ease. I once told you, that with you it's always fire. I don't mean it overly figuratively, you see. Whenever we're together, there's this fire in the pit of my stomach that fights to get out. I know it sounds crazy, but you said Castiel was special and… Well, I can't be sure, of course, but I think it's his presence that I feel. Ok, I hear how it sounds, so you don't have to tell me I'm insane, but I just… It feels like something inside me is desperate to get out, to reach for you. And it's been there from the first moment I saw you…" I frown at the sound of what I just said. It's insane, of course, but hey, I'm in love with the hunter of supernatural beings, it's not much crazier than that!

Dean looks at me thoughtfully for a while and then sighs.

"I just hope you won't hate me when you remember."

"You're sure I will remember?" I smile.

"Yeah, pretty much. We've all done crazy shit and it always comes back to bite us in the ass."

"You're talking about the mistakes Castiel made? The shitty choices, right?"

"Yeah, the shitty choices…"

"So you get why I don't want to remember? You don't really make him sound like a happy person…"

"No, probably not. But Em… don't take this the wrong way, I'm happy with who you are and I don't remember being happier than here with you, but I wish you remembered."

"Why? Why is it not enough?" I ask him seriously.

"It's not about not being enough, it's about… I just miss you like crazy."

"Castiel."

"Yes, Cas."

"I'm sorry, Dean." I tell him honestly and he smiles at me, small sad smile.

"Don't. This thing we have… And that I get to have you is more than I ever expected. And… Well you know, ditto." He kisses me again and then chuckles. "Ok, enough of the drama, I think I had my quota of it for a decade."

I laugh and nod.

"Ok, good. Anyway, back to you and Sam – try to speak to him. He's in a lot of pain, I think he really needs you now."

"Can you help him?" Dean asks carefully.

"I can try. I'm not sure though, I don't know what's wrong with him. Do you know?"

"No, I'm not sure. He doesn't sleep well and I think he might have… He might see things that are not there."

"Why? Was he always like that? Is it getting worse?"

"Yeah, I think it's getting worse. Something happened around the time Cas disappeared and I can't really explain, but…"

"Did he do this?" I ask as it suddenly clicks. That's the thing, that's why they were acting this way! "Is it my fault?"

Dean rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and nods.

"What happened?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure I don't want to know.

"I can't explain that." He shakes his head. "I'd have to tell you much more than you want to hear to explain that."

"Dammit, Dean! What the hell am I?"

"Em, please… I can tell you everything, but I'm pretty sure you'd remember. So unless you're sure this is what you want, don't ask me that."

I look at him for a moment longer and then nod.

"Ok, ok. I have to think about all of this. I…" There are many other things I want to tell him, for example how I don't know how we got here in the first place, how in a matter of hours we went from Dean and Em tangled together in the post-sex glow, to Dean and probably Castiel discussing past sins. Or how I don't know what to do with all this, what to make of it. Or how I feel phantom guilt over Sam's pain even though I have no idea what have I done to cause it. But all this is too new, too raw to discuss right now. I need to think about it, to decide how I will go forward, what will I do. There are many things I can do, but it comes down to the grand total of 2 routes to take – I can either push him out of my life and live on as Emmanuel, small town guy who works at the hardware store or I can stay with Dean, even though it means I have to accept that I'm not who I thought I was and let Castiel into my life. Whichever way I spin it, losing Dean is not an option anymore so… But I still need to think things through, so instead of saying anything I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him to me. I kiss him like it's the first time, slowly and carefully, enjoying the softness of his lips, careful swirl of his tongue against mine. It's not heated at all, we sigh into each other's mouths and cling to each other and yet the fire in me blazes anew. He's close now, Castiel, I can feel him. But I'm not ready, not yet. I want Dean for myself, just a little bit more, just a little.

"I can't lose you, Em." Dean mutters against my lips.

"No, I can't lose you either." I agree and press my lips to his for one more second. Finally, I pull back. "I have to go to work."

"Yeah, I know." He nods and takes a deep breath. "Do you want a ride?"

I chuckle.

"Speak to your brother, Dean. Sort it out so we can actually have a civilized evening when I get back."

"Yeah, yeah…" He grumbles. "How the hell did I end up dealing with this emo shit?"

"It's because you're emotional kind of guy. Secretly. Shamefully." I laugh and he pokes me in the ribs.

"Go, I'll deal with it."

I push off the bed and shake my head to clear it.

"I'll see you soon. Don't demolish the house, it's rented." I wink at him and finally go to work.


	16. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry I'm so late with updating this. As a compensation, I'll post 3 chapters all at once, leaving just the final one for last, since I still want to do some editing on that.  
> Hope you'll enjoy it and please let me know what you think :)

**Tuesday evening**

"Hello, Sam." I greet him coming into the kitchen. He's sitting there alone, sipping tea I know I didn't have in my home and reading one of my borrowed books.

"Emmanuel." He nods and I smile.

"Please, just call me Em."

He looks at me for a moment and then nods again.

"Where's Dean?"

"He went out for a pie. Said local diner made the best cherry pie he'd ever tasted."

I grin at that.

"You'll love cherry pie!" I assure him. "Rose definitely makes the best one and it's my all time favorite."

"That explains it." Sam chuckles and I cock an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Dean never chooses cherry pie. He says he likes all sorts of pie, but in reality when given a choice he'd always go for apple or pecan. And now he went to get a cherry pie."

I can't help the blush that creeps up my cheeks.

"Um…" I mutter smartly and Sam laughs. "I'm not absolutely sure, but I think this is awkward." I tell him with a smile and he laughs again.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's just weird to see Dean like that."

"Like what?"

"Well… Happy, I suppose. He doesn't… I didn't expect to see him like that, not after what happened."

"Dean's told me how important Bobby was for the both of you. I'm really sorry about what happened to him."

"Yeah, well… And it's not just Bobby. Dean's been a nightmare ever since… Well, you know, Castiel."

"He's told me bits and pieces of what happened. Not too many details though, he thinks I'd remember if he did and he knows I don't particularly want that."

"Yes, he told me that too. Actually threatened me not to tell you anything." He chuckled tiredly. "He told me this was real, what you two have, and he doesn't want to screw things up."

'Neither do I." I admit quietly.

"Dean is my brother, Em, and I have to ask you this – is it real for you too?"

"It's real. Your brother and I… I know it's not ideal and I'm actually terrified of how bad it could end, but I'm willing to risk pretty much everything for him." I tell him honestly and then shrug. "But if you ever tell him I said so, I'll deny it to my dying day. Your brother hates sentimental and I'm not willing to admit I'm a sap for him."

Sam laughs at that and nods.

"Your secret's safe with me. But Em, if you ever hurt him…"

"I thought this was an older brother's speech?"

"Yeah, well, Dean's only got younger brother, so suck it up. But I do mean this – if you ever hurt him, I will see the end of you."

"I don't want to hurt him." I tell him seriously.

"No, you didn't before either, but you did hurt him. I will not let you do it again."

"You mean Castiel." I say flatly. This is not a question.

"Yes, Castiel. What you did then… It pretty much broke his heart. I know you don't remember and even more so – I know you did what you did because you thought it was the only way, but I can't let you do it again."

"Sam… Do you think… Um… Do you think I'd hurt him again? If I remembered, I mean. Do you think I wouldn't want this? Do you think I'd choose something else?" My heart literally stutters at the mere thought I could leave him or hurt him any other way, but I do have to know.

"I don't know." Sam says slowly. "You always looked at him like you wanted him, you know? It was ridiculous to watch you two – staring at each other all the time and sneaking glances at one another when you were mad. All the moping and pining – would've been hilarious, if it wasn't that sad. You've done crazy, crazy shit for him and I think… I think you always loved him. But it didn't stop you. You thought you were protecting him so you did what you did and I think… I'm afraid you'd do that again."

"I don't want to hurt him, Sam. I'd do anything not to."

"Yeah, that was the reason he got hurt in the end, because you'd do anything."

I look at him for a moment longer.

"You don't approve of this." Again, not a question. "You'd rather he never met me here."

"I don't know. He's happy now. As in so happy he actually doesn't know what to do with all this. I don't remember him being so happy, ever. But with your track record, he can be miserable in a heartbeat."

I nod at him. I can't even argue, because I have no idea what I have done before.

"Look, Sam, I know you care about him a lot, as he does about you. But I do too. I can't explain what I did and why I did those things, because I just don't know. What I do know though is that I'd rather watch the world burn than hurt him in any way. And I know it sounds crazy dramatic, but it's not any less truth anyway."

"Oh no, I don't doubt that. But get this – he doesn't want the world to burn. And even more than that – he doesn't want you to burn. And that's where the problem is – if you think it's better for him, you choose to burn every time."

"We really are very complicated, aren't we?"

"You can say that again. Look, Em, I don't want to be a pain, but I care about Dean and I'd do anything not to see him the way he was when you disappeared. So I guess, what I'm saying is that I get it – you two have something real here and you're both seem happy in this, but please… Please don't hurt him again."

"I can promise you this much – I'll do everything I can not to." I swear and I mean it, I mean it more than I can express in words. I will do anything not to hurt Dean.

"Yeah, I guess that's all I can really ask for." Sam nods tiredly. "He does seem happy, you know?"

"Yes, yes, he does." I agree with a small smile.

"You do too."

"Oh, I absolutely am. I'm pretty sure I don't actually deserve that, but I am happy anyway."

"Well, it never is about deserving, is it?" He muses. "And it's good to see you so relaxed and content, you know?"

"Thank you, Sam. Ever since… Well, ever since Dean came back to me that first time… I just can't believe how lucky I am for him to choose this."

"Yes, he did say something similar along the lines. You know, in his own emotionally constipated way."

I laugh at that nodding.

"He's not too good with words. He's really good with actions though."

"Argh, not you too!" He frowns and I chuckle again.

"I didn't mean that kind of actions, but now you mentioned it – his prowess in that regard is indeed astonishing."

"Oh my god! You two are so worth each other!"

"What I originally meant, though, is that he always came back. Even when he had no idea why, he came back and that means a lot to me."

"Yeah, he does that; he never gives up on people." He agrees and rubs his eyes tiredly.

"Are you alright?" I ask and then shake my head. "No, don't tell me. You Winchesters always say you're fine. Can I try helping you again?"

He looks at me for a few seconds and then nods. "It'd be great if you did."

I concentrate to get myself ready for the onslaught of foreign pain and then touch the back of his hand with my fingertips.

It's bad. It's not as bad as it was yesterday, but it's bad nevertheless. I still can't pinpoint the source of all that misery, so I just concentrate on diminishing it all. It fights me, just like yesterday, but today I know what to expect, so I'm ready for it. What I'm not ready for is the feeling of taunting malevolence deep inside the pain. There's something there, something that doesn't allow Sam to heal, something I can't quite reach. I focus on at least trapping it, granting Sam some sort of relief and finally, as I'm about to cease my pushing, I feel it give. So I push more and more until I'm pretty sure it's at bay. I pull back.

"Is it better?" I ask silently, but Sam doesn't answer. Instead he envelops me into an overgrown hug tight enough to actually be this side of painful.

"Thank you." He says fervently. "I have no idea how you do this, but it feels so much better when you do…"

"I'm glad I can help. No one should be in that kind of pain. I'm so sorry for it, Sam, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, how about you apologize when you remember? Until then it's kind of not your fault." He smiles hesitantly and I smile back.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, alright. Look, hope you don't mind, but I could really use some sleep, now that I can actually do that."

"No, of course not." I nod and to be perfectly honest, I could use some sleep too. But I'll wait for Dean and his pie. "If you need anything, just let me know."

"Yeah, sure, no problem." He nods and goes to my guest room.

I look around the kitchen and decide to have a go at making a dinner while I wait. I'm actually pretty useless in the kitchen, but I think I can manage fried eggs and bacon. Dean makes them look easy – I should be fine.

Half an hour later I finally understand what 'famous last words' really mean. 'Easy – should be fine' turns into billows of smoke, burnt bacon, open windows and strong arms of a laughing man wrapped around my waist.

"I swear, I did everything you did the other morning." I mutter angrily and Dean laughs again planting a soft kiss on the back of my neck.

"Don't worry about it, man, cooking is just not one of your finer qualities." He laughs and I scowl. "No, seriously, I just looked at my phone for two seconds and then everything was burnt! How's that possible?"

"Two seconds, huh?" Dean grins. "Should I be worried? Are you sexting behind my back?"

"I don't even know what that means." I tell him rolling my eyes. "Sounds dirty though, and I didn't do anything dirty – Tom checked on me, I just told him that you haven't killed me yet."

"Killed you yet? I sure made an impression on your friend then." He laughs and nuzzles my neck.

"He was just worried." I drop my head on his shoulder and let him nibble at my neck. The dinner is already burnt, it's not like we're in a hurry anyway, and I really like him holding me like that. "He thinks you're a stranger and I let you into my home for no apparent reason."

"Yes, I can see how that's worrying." He agrees.

"He came to see me today, at the shop. But Emma was there too, so he didn't actually ask about you."

"Emma?" I can feel Dean's body go tense and rigid behind me.

"Yeah, her father owns a car shop, so he often orders some tools and parts and Emma picks them up."

"Oh." He mutters and as I turn to kiss him, I see he's frowning.

"What?"

"That girl wants you, Em. And I have no intentions of actually letting her have you."

I chuckle. "Is that jealousy?"

"I don't do jealousy." He growls and I laugh. "No, you really don't."

Dean goes on to make dinner, since I'm apparently useless in that regard and I settle at the table with a newspaper.

"Dean?" I ask hesitantly. "Do you know when will you two be leaving?"

"Why? Are you sick of us already?" He grins.

"No, but I'd rather know. So that I'm ready when you do."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He sighs. "I don't really know, though. Sam's looking into something that might be the case, but he's not sure yet."

"You won't be staying long, anyway." I don't even ask; it's pretty clear. I do try to stay impassive, because it's not like he can do anything about it. It's his life; I knew it from the very beginning.

He saunters closer and kisses the top of my head.

"I'll come back."

"Then I'll wait."

We don't talk much after that, but once we've eaten dinner, we settle on the couch to watch Rambo. I lean in, settling my back against his chest and he wraps his arm tightly around me. I feel so safe with him there, so content… I don't want him to leave, but I'll get over it. As long as he's coming back, I'll be waiting for him.

I don't know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up in the middle of the night I was tangled in his limbs, held closely to him. It was uncomfortable as hell, his knee digging into my thigh and I'm pretty sure there was no blood circulation in my arm that somehow ended up under him, but I just smiled, planted a kiss onto his chest and fell asleep again.

**Wednesday**

"You two are adorable." It's the first thing I hear when I wake up. Dean bristles beside me and I open one eye to glare at Sam.

"What? You are." He defends grinning broadly.

"I do not like you right now." I growl silently and feel Dean nod above me. I have enough of the presence to realize I'm tucked under his chin. I start wriggling trying to get out of his hold, but we're tangled closely and the couch is really not big enough for two men our size so it's not that much of the surprise that we end up falling off it all together. Neither is a surprise the roaring laughter of Sam, but I can't say I'm enjoying it very much. Dean flips him off as soon as he gets off me, but that does nothing to stop Sam from laughing.

I get up and pull Dean up and then we both glare at Sam.

"I'll go get us some coffee." I mutter and limp off. It's better this way – I'm really much friendlier once I had some coffee in me. Otherwise I might as well snap at Sam and his all too good mood. Morning people are annoying. When I come back, Sam is showing something to Dean on his laptop and Dean is frowning.

"Yeah, Sam, it sure looks like it. Dammit, why can't we get a break for ten fucking minutes?"

"You got a new case?" I ask setting Dean's coffee in front of him.

"Well, more of a same old." Dean grumbles and drinks up.

"Leviathan." Sam explains. "There's one more town like the one Dean got poisoned in. By the looks of it, people are slowly, but surely turning into sluggish zombies. It must have something to do with Sucrocorp, but I just can't find the definite connection."

"So you're going there? To look?" I ask.

"Yes, looks like we don't really have a choice." Dean says. "I just wish it was easier for once."

"When was it ever?" Sam smiles bitterly. "Anyway, we should head out as soon as possible."

"When?" I ask turning to Dean. I can see his face fall and he drops his gaze.

"Now?" I ask again.

"Today." Sam replies apologetically.

"Oh…" I mutter and then get hold of myself. "Alright, I understand. Will you… Will you still be here when I get back from work?"

"Actually…" Dean starts and then smiles sheepishly. "I was hoping to go to work with you. We'll need couple of things and well… If you can't skip work, then maybe I can go to work with you?"

I stare at Dean for a few moments and then smile at him. I don't know what is there in my face, but I think look sappy as hell, because Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Jesus, you two!" He mutters.

"Bitch." Dean grins at his brother and Sam laughs as Dean turns back to me and snakes his arm around my waist. "Go get dressed and let's go." He mutters into my neck and plants a small kiss there.

"Sam, before we go, how are you feeling? Do you need me to try helping you once more?"

"Not right now." Sam says seriously. "But maybe before we leave?"

"Of course." I nod and look at him carefully. "I am s…"

"No!" He stops me. "We talked about this. You can apologize when you know what you're apologizing for."

"Go get dressed." Dean mumbles guiding me towards my bedroom with the hand on the small of my back.

"Alright." I nod and finally go.

 

"Jesus, Dean, you can't…" I groan and hit the back of my head at the wall. "Stop, someone can come in…"

He doesn't, though, instead he continues sucking me down enthusiastically, holding me firmly with his hands on my hips. We are in the back room of the store, and even though it's a slow day, someone can literally come in any moment, but Dean clearly doesn't care and I don't have it in me to push him away. Not when he's doing that with his tongue!

"Dean…" I moan and his eyes find mine. I can see a hint of mischief there, but they're also blown with lust and that is just so incredibly hot that I can't hold back a whimper. I cup his cheek and brush my thumb at a corner of his mouth, where his lips are stretched around me and he suckles harder, with the moan at the back of his throat. The fire in me, which is now almost always there when he's around, blazes stronger than ever. He slides one of his hands to cup my balls and tugs lightly and I swear I see stars. I moan loudly and I'm almost there, I can feel the tightening in my balls and I'm about to warn him when the bell jingles announcing someone coming into the store.

I freeze entirely and Dean slows down, but he doesn't release me.

"Fuck…" I curse quietly and I swear Dean chuckles around me. I frown at him, but I really can't be mad at him when he's licking me base to tip.

"Em?" I hear a shout from the store and I roll my eyes. Of course, of course it's Emma! I pull away from Dean watching him frown. I shrug apologetically and tuck myself back into my jeans. Jesus, how am I supposed to pull off that nothing is happening with an aching boner? Dean stands up and pulls me into his arms, kissing me firmly. When he lets go of me, he runs his hands down my shoulders straightening my t-shirt and checking to see if I'm presentable. At last, he runs his hands through my hair and nods.

"In a minute!" I shout back at the store, but instead of heading there, I pull Dean closer once again and kiss him. "This isn't over." I mouth at him and he nods smiling. Finally, I go to meet Emma in the store.

"Uh…" I stammer coming out of the back room and I clear my throat. "Hi, Emma."

"Em!" She smiles warmly at me, but when I come closer, her smile slips and she frowns. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." I nod slipping behind the counter. "Why?"

"Well, you look… flushed. Are you sure you're not coming down with something?"

"No. Um… It's just hot in the back room, that's all." I lie and I swear, I can almost feel Dean laughing.

"Well, if you're sure… I mean, if you're not feeling well, you should just tell Mark. You could go back to your place and lie down for a while. I… I could bring you some soup."

I shrug uncomfortably and shake my head.

"No, I really am fine." I tell her. "It's just stuffy in there, that's all. So, what can I help you with?"

It's now Emma's turn to shrug uncomfortably.

"I… I wanted to talk to you, actually."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Um… Well, it's about the other day. You know, in the movies."

"Yes?"

"I just don't want you to get the wrong idea, you see? Tom's a great friend, but there's nothing happening between me and him."

I blink at her couple of times before getting what she's saying.

"Emma, Tom's a great guy, really…"

"No, no." She cuts me off. "Look, it's not really Tom I wanted to talk about, I just wanted to make sure you know it's not like that with him and me. What I mean to say… Listen, Em, I know you said you were not sure how you felt and you didn't want to string me along, and I get it, I really do, but at the same time… I think maybe we didn't really even try and… and maybe we should."

"Emma…" I breathe sympathetically. Why, seriously, why do we have to do this now, with Dean mere feet away? I can imagine his frown all too well. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"No, but listen." She rushes on. "I really like you and you're my friend too and I think we could actually be good together and even if you're not sure right now, it doesn't mean we shouldn't try anyway, because I think it could be really, really good!"

I sigh mentally and briefly think that this is precisely why you shouldn't mess with a friend. I feel horrible for the look of hope on her face and I feel even worse because all I want is to wrap this whole talk up and go back to Dean. But Emma is my friend and I only have two real friends apart from Dean, so I suck it up and decide to do it right.

"Listen, Emma. Like I told you before, I do really like you, but…"

"No, I know what you'll say, but just don't. You just need to think about it." She interrupts.

I step closer and put my hands on her shoulders.

"You need to listen to me, Emma." I tell her calmly. "I do really like you, but I like a friend in you. You're great and you're kind and you're fun to be with, but that's not what you want from me. And I just don't feel what you want me to feel."

"But how can you know?" She asks and there's a silent plea in her eyes. "It was… It was so good, you know? How can you know this is not what you're supposed to feel?"

I look at her for a second longer, take a deep breath and make a decision.

"I know because I met someone." I tell her firmly and brace myself for what will surely follow.

"What?.. What?" She stutters staring at me wide eyed.

"I'm sorry, I really am. But I met someone and I'm pretty sure that's what you're supposed to feel when it's right."

"But… When?" She asks with the same wide eyed look. "And who?"

"Does it really matter?" I stall. "I just know that you and I can't really work, because… Well, I met someone."

"But… I mean, I never even seen you with anyone and Tom would've told me if he had. When did this happen? Em, how did you manage to hide this? The only one I've ever seen you with was that FBI agent in the movies and…"

I let her process all this, because I just don't want to hide it anymore. Granted, I should have probably told John first, but maybe it's for the best? This way I can't talk myself out of speaking to him. Damn, that's one conversation I really am not looking forward to. I concentrate on what's happening right now, though.

"FBI agent… Dean…" She mumbles. "Jesus, Em, are you gay?"

"No, I don't believe I am. I suppose bi would be correct."

"But… Well, why didn't you tell me?" She yells suddenly. "Why did you let me think there was something between us?"

"Because there was something between us and… Then I met Dean." I tell her apologetically. "Emma, I am sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you, but as soon as I knew what I felt for Dean was real, I stopped things with you. I'm sorry, but…"

"So what?!" She frowned angrily. "You thought you couldn't tell me that because what? I would stop being your friend? That this would matter to me? Jesus, Em!"

"Wait, what?" I ask her stupidly. "You're mad at me for not telling you about Dean and not about me actually being with Dean?"

"I would've understood! It would've made sense! Your nonsense about this not feeling right, with you and me – that I couldn't understand! You being into a guy – that I could've understood!"

"Oh… Oh." I'm so out of my depth here. I thought she'd be mad at me, but apparently I should've told her? That's when Dean decides to come out and help me.

"Em!" He shouts out of the back room and steps inside the shop. "Oh, Emma, right?"

He's all innocence and sweet smiles as he steps closer to me. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Emma glances at him and then turns back to me with a frown.

"This is not over, Emmanuel. I'm gonna be mad as hell at you and you're gonna take it. And then we're gonna be friends again." Finally she turns to Dean. "Hello, Dean."

"Is everything alright?" He asks cautiously.

"Yes." Emma says at once. "Em and I have couple of things to clear out, but it can wait. For now, I'd really like to meet you properly. You said you're an FBI agent?"

"That's right. I was investigating the deaths of two men here, Em's friend Brian and Dennis."

"Yes, I remember people talking about FBI agents here, but I didn't have a chance to meet you then. Did you meet Em then?"

"Yeah." He steps closer to me still. "Couldn't stop thinking about this town after we left."

"Yes, I'm sure the town held your fascination!" Emma scoffs, but there's no malice in it and Dean laughs loudly. "You're right, it wasn't precisely the town."

"Em told me about you two." Emma says narrowing her eyes at me once again. "Too late, in my opinion, but hey, they say better late than never."

"There wasn't that much to say, before." Dean contradicts. "It's new and if Em wanted to wait with telling people, it's his decision."

"He has friends that love him no matter what. Friends, that don't generally like being lied to."

"And he's right here." I interrupt. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you and I'm sorry we kind of lied to you and Tom at the movies, but…"

"I get it, Em." Emma cuts me off. "Doesn't mean I like it, but I do get it. And… Well, it's ok, I suppose. If you're happy, then it's ok."

"I am." I tell her and feel Dean smile at me warmly.

"So are you staying then?" Emma asks Dean and he shakes his head.

"I wish I could, but I have a job and I can't just quit. But I will come back as soon as I can."

"Oh… Well, as long as it works for you, I suppose." She nods and then looks back at me. "Ok, I think I should better go now. Sorry about the whole… You know."

"It's alright, Emma. And I am sorry."

"I know. It's ok." She smiles, looks at Dean gives him her hand. "It was good to properly meet you, Dean. And you better take good care of Em."

"You too and I will." Dean agrees shaking her hand.

"I'll see you around, Em." Emma turns to go and I lead her out.

"Could you keep this to yourself for a little while longer?' I ask. "Just so I have a chance to speak to John first."

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of telling anyone. You should tell Tom, though."

"I know and I will." I promise opening the door to her.

"Good. I'll see you around and… Well, we're good Em. I might bitch a little about the whole thing, but we're good."

"Thank you, Emma." I smile and close the door behind her.

"So you told her." Dean says as I turn to him.

"I guess I did." I nod.

"And?"

"And what?"

"You're kind of out of the closet, you know?"

"I was never in the closet." I shake my head. "I'm just concerned John won't understand, but in no way was I ever ashamed of what I feel for you."

"Of course not!" He laughs. "You said it yourself – I'm ridiculously hot – what's to be ashamed of?"

I laugh with him, but when I'm about to put my arms around him, the damn bell jingles again. We both turn to the door and see Sam coming in.

"Sammy!" Dean greets him.

"It's Sam, Dean." He frowns, but Dean just chuckles. "So this is where you work?"

"This is it." I agree and look at him carefully. "How are you doing?"

"Better." He nods. "But I kind of wish we didn't have to go – whatever it is you do improved my sleeping dramatically."

"I'm glad I could help." I agree and at the same time I also wish they didn't have to go. "I'll try once again, before you go."

"Um…" He looks at me uncomfortably. "That's just it – I already packed us and we really should go now if we hope to reach Texas by night."

Dean frowns, but the sighs resignedly. "Yeah, we really should."

"Alright." I nod. "Alright, then how about you go sit over there for a minute, so I can kiss your brother properly, and then I'll do what I can?"

"Jesus, too much information!" Sam balks and moves away at once as both Dean and I laugh. When I turn to Dean, I grow serious again.

"I'm going to miss you." I tell him putting my hands on his hips.

"Yeah?" He asks leaning in to kiss me. His breath ghosts on my lips and I submit to an urge to lick my lips. He groans, grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into a forceful kiss. We kiss for a long while, pulling each other closer, neither one wanting to let go. We do however let go, because no matter how overwhelming the feeling of that kiss is, it's hard to concentrate on it when Sam clears his throat for the third time. Dean just rolls his eyes, but I sigh, give him the last small kiss and go to help Sam.

"Is it at all better?" I ask him, sitting down beside him.

"It is." He agrees. "But it's like when you do whatever it is you do, it gets better. But then it starts to get gradually worse and before too long is bad again."

"Then you have to come back too. If it gets worse, you need to find me and I'll help."

"Yeah, well I can't just sit around in this town and do nothing. It's going to be fine, but since I'm here, I don't see why not to let you do it."

"Of course. But I am serious, if you need me, come find me."

Sam just nods and I brace myself for the onslaught of that alien pain as I reach out to touch the back of his hand. I don't think it's possible to be ready for that, though, because as soon as I touch him, I'm overwhelmed with pain and hatred that seems to simmer under Sam's skin.

He's right – it's not as bad as it was the first time I tried helping him, but it's not good either. I concentrate as much as I can and I will with all that's in me the pain to abide. It struggles, just like before, but unlike before it gives in easier now. I push and push and before long I can feel it give and abate. Sam exhales with relief, but I tense up, because unlike before, I can feel the fire in me ignite. Dean's been the only one who was ever able to do that, but now I can feel it blazing. It's different than with Dean, it doesn't hold any of attraction or lust that I always feel with Dean close to me, but affection is there and it scorches me.

I pull away from Sam and now concentrate on getting hold of this fire before it got out of hand. He's close, Castiel, I feel him struggling in my hold, even if there's no consciousness to it. I don't even perceive him as a person, but rather a being, a force that's in me and that's desperate to get out.

I think I stagger backwards a little, because the next second Dean's arms are around me and he's grounding me more than anything ever could. I take a deep breath and turn so I can embrace him and hide my face in his neck. He holds me firmly and not for the first time I marvel at the sensation of strong arms around me. I feel safe with him and I'd do anything to keep him, anything. I think that's what makes the difference, because the fire starts simpering out and I exhale with relief.

"Are you alright?" Sam asks behind me and I nod, still not letting Dean go. I indulge in him for a few more seconds before finally pushing out of his arms. I'm met with concerned stare of his eyes, widened with fear.

"I'm alright." I mutter. "It's ok now."

"What happened?" Dean asks.

"If I'm not much mistaken – Castiel."

"What?" They both ask in unison.

"I told Dean I can feel him sometimes. Lately it's been more and the more I try to help you, Sam, the closer he is. It's overwhelming at times."

"Oh… I'm sorry." Sam says uncomfortably, but I shake my head at once.

"You don't get to be sorry for this, Sam. It's my fault and I'll do all I can to help you, Castiel or on."

"Dammit…" Sam mutters and the shakes his head. "I am really grateful, though. Really, it feels so much better."

"I'm glad." I smile, even though simple act of standing feels a bit too painful now. It doesn't matter, I am glad I can help Sam.

"Alright, Sammy, why don't you go wait in the car for a bit, I'll be right there." Dean says, his voice stern.

"Yeah, ok." Sam agrees, but before he goes, he comes to hug me. "It was really good to meet you, Em. I'm really happy about you and Dean, he looks so happy with you."

"Thank you, Sam." I mutter. "I'll try to keep him happy and I promise you I'd do whatever it takes not to hurt him again."

"Yes, well, it seems you're doing a great job so far." He smiles letting me go. "I'll see you soon, Em."

"I will be looking forward to it." I nod and Sam walks out of the store.

Dean spins me around and hugs me once again.

"Tell me it's not dangerous to you. The thing you do for Sam." He pleads and I hug him tighter.

"It's not." I promise. "I get overwhelmed, that's it. But I'm fine and it helps Sam, it's all that matters."

"It's not all that matters." He kisses me, just a peck. "I don't want you hurt, too."

"I know." I nod. "But I'm alright, don't worry about it."

"You think you'll remember?" He asks suddenly and I ponder for a second before nodding.

"Yes, it looks like it. It's getting more and more difficult to contain it."

"I want to be here when you do."

"I'm pretty sure you will be." I kiss him. "I only feel like remembering when you're around."

"Jesus, I hope you won't hate me." He mumbles desperately against my lips. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him for all its worth. We're both panting when I finally let him go.

"I will never hate you, Dean Winchester. And I will never regret this."

"Ok, ok…" He agrees with a small smile.

"You have to go now, Sam's waiting."

"Yeah, I know… Look, it's not gonna be like the last time, ok? I'm gonna call you. And I'm coming back as soon as I can, ok?"

"I know, Dean. It's going to be ok – I'll be waiting for you."

Dean chuckles lightly, but it's not particularly joyous sound.

"At least I know Emma will keep her hands off you now."

"Yes, I think we pretty much made sure of that." I smile and kiss him again. "Go, Dean. Be safe and come back."

"Yeah, ok. You be safe, too."

"I will. And I love you, just so you remember."

Of all the things he could blush for – this is the one that makes him blush. He shrugs uncomfortably, drops his gaze and starts fidgeting. I laugh and take pity on him.

"I know, I know, ditto."

He looks up with a grateful smile and kisses me again.

"I'll call you." He promises walking out and I watch him get into the car and drive away. It's still hard to see him go, but he will come back and that's all that matters to me.


	17. Rollercoaster

**6 weeks later**

**Friday**

I look at my phone with unknown number flashing on the screen and my breathing hitches. I might have deleted it and it might be unknown to my phone, but I know that number painfully well. Dean. For the briefest and craziest second I consider to simply let it ring…

 

The first week after Dean left he called me every night. He'd tell me about how his day went, what he did, how his hunt went. He'd tell me about Sam, his research, he'd even tell me Sam was sleeping better. In turn I told him about mundane things I did with my life – how my day went, what my friends were up to, what I was planning to do for the weekend. I never told him about how my talk with John went, mostly because he never asked, but also because it was still hard to talk about it. Instead I talked about easier things, like how much I missed him and how much I wanted him to come back.

Dean talked about the things he found out about leviathan, he told me about some of his previous hunts and what other creatures were out there. On one memorable occasion he even narrated me through all the things he wanted to do to me or have me do to him while we both fisted ourselves hard and fast, his voice broken with breathless moans and whimpers. Yes, that was one hell of a phone call.

By the second week the phone calls reduced to every second night, but from what Dean told me, they were very busy indeed. He told me about the plans they discovered and the plants leviathan were building. He spoke about a friend of a friend that had intel on them and his crazy theories on what else to expect. In the passing he also mentioned that Sam's sleep patterns were getting messed up again, but it was still better than before they came to me. In turn I told him about the trip Tom was planning to take and the proper date he convinced Emma to go on. Obviously I don't have that much to talk about, but I did tell him about finally getting my driver's license and Tom helping me look for a car. He was thrilled to hear that, but made sure I knew he found all foreign cars an abomination and I shouldn't even consider one. There was never that much to talk about on those calls, but somehow some of our calls lasted for hours at a time and neither Dean nor I were ever keen to hang up.

On the third week he only called me twice, replacing the evening calls with occasional texts telling me he was fine, just busy. I got it – he was on a hunt after all and the least I wanted was for him to be distracted. I texted him back saying I missed him and asking him to stay safe.

The last time I actually heard his voice was the beginning of the fourth week. Dean called me to say they would be travelling further south to see the place they believed leviathan conducted their experiments. It was fairly perfunctory call – just to let me know he was alright and quite busy. I didn't want to pry and his tone didn't precisely encourage conversation, so I just asked how Sam was. Apparently that was a wrong question to ask, because Dean simply growled 'not sleeping well' and hung up the phone. There were couple of more texts that week, mainly containing the same message – 'we're fine', but by the week five those have petered out as well. I tried calling him then, by the end of fifth week, but I got the voicemail instead. I left the message asking him if he was alright, but he didn't reply. I tried two more times in the following days, until finally I left the message asking him to just let me know he's alright and I'd leave him alone. Later that day I got a text. 'I'm fine' was all it said and frankly I never thought these few words can actually cause so much pain.

It's not that I didn't expect it, really. I always knew it was going to end, I knew his life was elsewhere and there was no chance for me to have him. But the last time he was here… He'd just given me hope and although now it's clear I shouldn't have, I actually believed there was something between us. I suppose it shouldn't come as such a shock – he's a good man. He's good in all the senses of the word – he's kind and loyal and so brave. He has so much to offer. Of course he wouldn't want to be tied to someone like me. It was fun while it lasted and I assume Castiel made it worth his while, but I'm still not him and I'm just… I'm just not what he wants. It's painfully obvious by now that his inability to tell me he loved me didn't come from his aversion to what he calls 'chick-flick moments' as I had hoped, but rather from the simple and brutal fact – he simply doesn't feel that way about me. And yet he seemed so… I was just so sure I wasn't alone in this, so sure he wanted this too. And the worst of it is… I miss him. I miss his smile and the way he always scooted over to me on the couch. I miss his voice, low and grumbling. I miss his hands; sometimes I feel like my skin is still tingling with his phantom touch. I miss watching him sleep. It's so sappy, so sickly sentimental, but it hurts me all the same.

I deleted all his texts and then his number in a futile attempt to get him out of my head. Absurd, really. He made his place in it, like a permanent dent that he fits into perfectly. It makes me so angry some nights… I'm ashamed of it, but some nights I'm just so angry he'd given me hope that I want to scream. The hollow in my chest that he numbed so efficiently throbs more than ever and I just… I just miss him. It's ugly, this feeling of being unwanted and I hate it. I wouldn't change a single thing that led to this though – he made me so happy before that I'd never choose it differently. I just wish it didn't hurt as much.

Tom and Emma are pissed at him. I think Tom was actually terrified I'd want to get back with Emma, but the truth is I just don't. And she knows it very well. We have this understanding between us and as unlikely as it sounds, the whole thing actually made us better friends. I'm generally not a sharing type, but I got that last text from Dean at work, with both Emma and Tom there and I think I didn't school my expression too well so in the end I told them Dean wouldn't be coming back. They said things I assume all friends say to people who were just dumped – that he doesn't deserve me, that it's his loss and that he's an idiot for not seeing how lucky he was to have me. Utter nonsense in other words. He's not the one to lose out on something in the whole thing… It's still so amazing I have friends to try and cheer me up, to support me, because with Dean gone and John not really speaking to me anymore, I'd just be so alone…

 

All of this flashes through my head as I watch that 'unknown' number blink on the screen. Who am I kidding?

"Hello, Dean."

"Em…" He exhales. I think it's relief I hear in his voice. Did he think I wouldn't answer as well?

There's a silence then. A long one, until I finally break it.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah… yeah." He mutters and then takes a deep breath. "It's Sam. He's… He's not well. Um… really fucking bad, actually."

"What happened?" I ask flinching. It's been over 6 weeks since I saw Sam and if it was getting worse, really worse, I don't want to even think about the state he might be in.

"The same. He got worse. He didn't say anything, but I… I saw he was not sleeping well, but he said he was fine and I… I wanted to believe him, you know? And now… He hasn't slept for over 2 days, I think he's hallucinating and… He's in a hospital now, but they can't knock him out, the drugs don't work at all, he just can't get to sleep… The doctor… He said if they can't find a way to knock him out there might be permanent damage to his brain soon. They don't know what's wrong with him and he doesn't say anything, but it's the same. And… He might die, Em…" His voice breaks at the end with a silent sob.

"Where are you?" Is all I ask. It's really all I need to know.

"Lawrence." He says trying to pull himself together. "Look, Em, I know I haven't been… Um… I know I didn't…"

"Dean." I cut in, but he continues forcefully.

"But you owe me this, ok? It doesn't matter you don't remember – it's your fault and you owe me this!"

I know this anger comes from a lot of desperation and fear, but it's hard to bear anyway. Especially when he's right to hate me.

"I'll be there in 4 hours." I tell him simply. "Which hospital?"

"Um…" I think he expected me to refuse, because he sounds startled. "I'm in the motel just outside of Lawrence. I'll text you the address. I'll wait for you here."

"Alright. I'll see you soon."

"Em!" He shouts, before I hang up. "Em… I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't." I cut him off at once. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'll be there shortly."

I hang up the phone before he can say something else, because I just really cannot hear it. It's my fault. His brother is suffering and… His dwindling calls and all that silence makes sense now. He hates me for that and so he should. It's my fault; it's me.

I'll do whatever I can, though. I'll do all it takes to fix this and then… Then I'll just let him be. I made a promise to Sam and myself I'd never hurt him again and I'll be damn sure to keep it.

 

It takes me just a little under 4 hours to get there, so it's nearly midnight when I'm finally there. I knock at the door of his motel room thinking how curiously human mind works. I drove there in a haze. I shouldn't have skills to drive on autopilot, like experienced drivers do, but I did anyway. I hardly remember anything from the way here – everything I could think of was how soon I'm going to see him. It's selfish and I know it, but I missed him and out of all of this seeing him is the best I can get and I want it. My heart's hammering in my chest as I knock on his door. I never came to him – it has always been him who came to see me. Was he this nervous too? I'm frankly terrified. It's not going to be pretty, I know that much, but I'm itching to see him, even if I can't actually touch him.

He opens the door finally and for the longest moment we stare at each other. He's tired, deep shadows under his eyes and his skin which is normally warm and golden looks pale, almost ashen. Grief, I think it's a face of grief. His eyes are huge though, glassy with unshed tears and numbing fear. He takes a step back to let me in and sways suddenly. He's drunk.

"Dean." I mutter stepping in. He walks back to his bed and flops on it heavily.

"Thought I do something useful while I wait, so I got shitfaced." He mumbles, grabs the bottle and takes a long swig from it. He motions it my way. "Want some?"  
I shake my head.

"Which hospital?" I want to help Sam as soon as I can – that's the only way to make Dean feel better and I won't waste a single moment.

"It's midnight." He huffs out a harsh laugh. "They kicked me out and you won't get in until morning."

I nod at that and then raise my hand carefully in offer.

"Do you want me to help you?"

"No!" He spits out shuddering violently and not meeting my eyes. "Don't fucking touch me!"

I let my hand drop and take a step back. Not that I'm close to him – my back is pressed at the door leaving as much space as possible between us. I didn't… I didn't think it would hurt as much. His hate radiates out of him and I physically can't stand it anymore.

"I'll go get a room. I'll be back in the morning." I tell him turning to go.

"You can stay here." Dean all but growls and I turn back to look at him. He doesn't meet my eyes.

"No, I really can't." I turn away again, but as I grab the doorknob I hear him move and the next second his arms are around me and his chest is pressed flush to my back.

"Don't." He mutters into my hair.

"Dean…" I sob out. It just hurts so much to be in his arms and know he hates me. I'm startled as I feel his lips on my neck. He shouldn't… I shouldn't… He turns me around and presses me against the door, all hips and hands and chest to my chest. He kisses me then and for a blissful moment I just let him. I let him and I don't think about anything except the feeling of his lips on mine; the feeling I've missed so desperately. I let him pry my mouth open with the tip of his tongue and I let him suck my bottom lip in. I let him, I let him, I let him and it's utter bliss until I taste whisky on his tongue caressing mine and the reality catches up with me with a thundering crash. I jerk my mouth away.

"No." I mutter and turn trying to avoid his lips chasing after me. "Dean, stop."

He doesn't though; he presses harder and since he can't get to my lips, he latches onto my neck. My eyes roll up into my skull involuntarily and I jerk my hips on reflex. He moans at that and it takes all I have to grasp his shoulders and firmly push him away.

"You're drunk." I gasp, although I'm not sure who I'm trying to remind this to. "That's not what you want."

"The fuck you know?" He growls and his hands are on me again, yanking me closer to him. I cup his face with my hands and hold him still, making him look at me.

"Dean, stop. Please…"

He stares at me blinking rapidly.

"I know it's bad for you now, but trust me, this is not what you want."

He laughs angrily at that, steps away from me and hides his face in his hands.

"Not what I fucking want!" He laughs again even though it sounds more like sobbing. "My brother is dying because of you! He's dying and should hate you, I should fucking hate you!"

"I know, Dean." I tell him soothingly. He's terrified and in so much pain… I wish there was something I could do for him, but even the little I can – he's not allowing it. So I try to soothe him. "Listen to me, tomorrow we go to Sam and I do whatever it takes to help him. I don't know the extent of what I can do, but it worked the last time, so it'll work this time too. And if it doesn't, I'll think of something else, but Sam is going to be ok."

Dean shakes his head then, but before he can say anything I press on. "He's going to be ok, Dean and that's that. Whatever it takes, do you understand? I'll do whatever it takes and he's going to be ok. And when he's all healed and alright, I'll leave you both alone and you can hate me all you want."

"No!" He snaps his head up to look at me.

"Yes. You have nothing to feel guilty for, Dean. Whatever it is I did to Sam, there's no excuse. Nobody deserves the pain he's in and you're right to hate me. And I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I am sorry, I truly am. It doesn't make it alright and nothing ever will, but I want you to know I'm not getting off easy for what I did. Hurting you… Losing you… I will always regret this."

"You don't get it, Em…" There's pleading in his voice so I try to calm him down again.

"No, maybe I don't know what happened and why, but I can understand pain and guilt and retribution. I understand hate…"

"You don't get it!" He growls suddenly and grabs me by the lapels of my jacket. "I don't hate you! I should! I fucking should hate you, but I don't! I… I… I miss you!"

I stare at him stunned as he cages me in his arms. His hands are on me, pulling me closer to him. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, making me shiver in his arms. And he keeps speaking.

"I miss you and I need you, I need you… And who the fuck am I punishing? Is it even you? You don't remember, you don't know… Or is it me? For knowing and remembering and still wanting you? Jesus fucking… I want you, Em, I miss you and I shouldn't, I shouldn't…"

He cuts himself off and presses his lips to my neck. His hands are roaming up and down my back and his kisses intensify and I know, I know I should stop this, but I want him so much!

"Dean…" I sob out and he catches my sob with his mouth. He pries my lips open and plunges deep into my mouth, tasting me or maybe claiming me. He only pulls back when we're both dizzy with lack of oxygen, but he doesn't pull back far. "Miss this, need this, need you…" He mumbles, his lips grazing mine. He kisses me again, same frantic energy, same feeling of pain and loss.

"Shouldn't want you, not after all this…" He mutters finally, but he doesn't let me go. Still, it's like a stab through my heart. I feel cold all of the sudden and the blissful moment of having him in my arms is shattered with reality.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." I mutter not even trying to get away from him. "I'm so sorry I'm hurting you again… I would've never… You have to believe me, I would've never let you come to me if I knew."

"What?" He asks surprised.

"Dean…" I cup his face in my hands and brush his cheek with my thumb. "If I knew you never wanted to care for me… Dean, I promise you, I would've never let you come back, I would've never asked you to and I'm so sorry this hurts you…"

"Jesus, Em…" He whimpers and tries kissing me again, but I'm ready this time and I turn away from him.

"No, Dean." I tell him firmly. I have to be strong now. He's drunk and that's the only reason he lets himself have me. He wouldn't want this if he was sober and so I have to be stronger now. "Listen to me. I'm going to go get myself a room…"

"No!" He cuts me off.

"Dean, please, listen. I'll get myself a room and you get some sleep. Tomorrow first thing in the morning we'll go and I'll help Sam. You'll get your brother back and then you move on. I'll get out of your way, so you don't have to see me again."

"No! No, no, no!"

"Dean, please… Tom says that if you don't see someone, you eventually stop wanting to see them. That's exactly what you want, isn't it? Not to want me? That's a way to do it."

"Jesus fucking! No!" He shouts suddenly and grabs me by the back of my neck. "No, you hear me? No! You don't get to check out! You don't get to leave me again!"

"But… Dean…"

"No! I don't care, ok? I want you and I need you and I don't care it's fucked up! You don't get to leave me!" He's on me again, frenzied, biting kisses, rough hands and mumbled confessions. "Missed you… wanted to call you all the time, you know? So much… Jesus, so fucking much… Stay… Please, just… Stay." Every kiss between his words is softer, more reverent and I can feel myself giving in. The numbness I felt for weeks now dissipates and I'm blazing with the fire in the pit of my stomach again.

"Dean…" I whimper. I'm so close to tears it frightens me. But perhaps it shouldn't, because I see tears in the corners of his eyes as well. I kiss them away and he sags with relief in my arms.

"Stay." He mumbles. "With me. Stay with me. Can't lose you. Not again… Not you…"

"Yes." I mutter and kiss him slowly. "Yes. For as long as you want me. Yes."

He lets out a breath I had no idea he was holding and for the first time since he left all those weeks ago, he smiles at me. It's crooked and a little painful, but despite how cliché it is – it lights up his face. "Ok."

He kisses me again, but it's different this time. There's no more desperate frenzy, instead he kisses me with intent, sucking on my bottom lip and pushing his hands under my t-shirt. And despite the emotional rollercoaster, I can feel my body respond to him all the same. But… I can't, I just can't and I need to be sure, so I push him gently away and smile at his confused expression.

"You need to get some sleep, Dean." I tell him, brushing my thumb across his upper lip. "You're drunk and… I just need to know you'll want this when you're sober too."

"I will." He promises at once. "I'm not drunk out of my mind, I know what I'm doing."

"Then tell me that in the morning, ok?"

He takes a deep breath and then sighs.

"Fine." He says at last. "But you don't go away. I can behave, but you're staying with me tonight."

I look at him for a moment longer and then nod. I don't want to go away and if he… If it's just a drunken mistake to him after all, at least I'll get to stay with him for a little while longer.

He smiles again, takes my hand and leads me to his bed. We undress quickly and quietly and when he settles in, he opens his arms for me. I scoot over and lay my head on his chest, wrapping my arm around his middle and tangling our legs together. We both let out silent sighs and finally relax into each other. The sound of his steady heartbeat is my perfect lullaby and I think I smile as it lulls me to sleep.

 


	18. The Moment I Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So this is definitely second to last chapter of this story. Only 1 left and even though this story has been giving me a lot of troubles, it's still the longest I've ever written, the second I ever started to write in this fandom and definitely one of my favorites. So I guess it's somewhat bittersweet to be so close to the end. On the other hand, I will finally have time to focus on my other projects, and I always said the stories should not be left unfinished, so... Anyway, it's been great to write this, it's not the end yet and I really hope you'll enjoy it. L.

**Saturday**

I wake up from the sound of my own moan – now that's a first. I open my eyes blearily, the tiredness still deep in my bones. I haven't slept all that well for the last couple of weeks and it can't be more than a few hours since I'd gotten to bed. Still, I can't help but moan once again at the feeling of Dean's mouth on my neck. He sucks and licks and kisses my skin while his hand finds its way under my t-shirt to flick my nipple. I arch into the touch, thread my fingers into the strands of his hair and pull him up so I can kiss him. He opens up readily, his mouth warm and his lips wet. I lick at them and he lets out a quiet whine.

My head swims with want – intense and consuming, much like the fire in me, but I make myself slow down and pull away.

"How drunk are you?" I mutter carefully, but he shakes his head.

"Not drunk." He says firmly and kisses me again. "I know what I'm doing and I know what I want."

"I don't want you to regret this." I confess.

"I won't. This is what I want, Em." He promises. "Jesus fucking… You've no idea how much I missed this, do you?"

"I'm pretty sure I do." I tell him and kiss him again.

Dean rolls onto me, pinning me to the bed as if he's scared I might try to get away. He trails his kisses down my jaw once again and latches his mouth on the same spot on my neck. I can feel him marking me and it gives me a wild sort of satisfaction. I want to be his, just as much as I want him to be mine. Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice mumbles that I don't deserve this, but it's easy to shove that voice down when I have armfuls of Dean. Finally, he releases my neck and leans back to look at the mark he's made. He smiles contentedly.

"I know it's ridiculous," he growls, "but fuck, do I like to see you marked up."

He kisses me again and I shove my arms under his t-shirt to pull it away. He lifts up and lets me do it and then attacks my own t-shirt. As soon as it's off, he hooks his thumbs in my boxers and orders me up. Before I know it, my underwear's off and he's down at my feet, kissing my ankle. I whimper silently at his attention, but his strong hands hold me still as he kisses every inch of my skin crawling slowly up. By the time he's at my inner thighs, I moan unabashedly. There's nothing that could make me stop now – what he's doing feels so much like worship that I'm just helpless in his hold. He moves up inch by inch and I feel his tongue in the crease of my groin. He licks and sucks and nips at my hipbones and I think the words that are spilling from my mouth is actually begging, but I just can't be sure. At the long last he finally lifts his head up.

"Have you any idea how much I like the taste of your skin?" He asks me, but thankfully he's not expecting any answer, because for the life of me, I can't formulate a decent word, much less sentence. "How much I missed the feeling of your dick in my mouth? How many times I woke up hard, remembering the taste of your come?"

I whimper again as he leans down and finally, finally, sucks the head of my dick into his mouth. I watch fascinated as his lips stretch to accommodate me, to take me in deeper. It's not as much about feeling it, although I am floating in the haze of pleasure by now, but more about seeing him. He looks like this is exactly where he wants to be and that's such a turn on that I have to close my eyes before I come there and then. Instead I moan loudly as he hums around my dick, and do my best not to thrust my hips forward. As if on cue, Dean grabs my hips to keep me rooted and starts bobbing his head up and down, taking me deeper every time. I think I shout out when he actually starts sucking and he moans around me. He doesn't let go of me, even when I start to thrash under him, when I arch and moan and cry out words that I don't recognize. He holds me steady and keeps going more and more until time loses its meaning and all I can think of is the fire in my stomach and warm pleasure in my groin. I can feel myself tightening, arching and I have enough presence of mind to try to warn him, but Dean knows, he knows me well enough by now, so he just tightens his hold on my hips and sucks harder. I cry out his name, something else perhaps, too, buck my hips in his hold and I'm coming with sharp bursts of pleasure shaking me. Dean's right there with me, holding me, working me through it, swallowing around me. He licks me clean as I come down from my high, but for the longest moment I just can't make myself move. He chuckles, watching the boneless heap of me, and scoots up to kiss me. He tastes of me, but I love that taste in his mouth, so I lick at his mouth and suck on his tongue. He moans into my mouth, settles between my thighs and I feel him starting to move his hips minutely. I grab his ass and grind him harder against me. He groans dropping his head to my shoulder and starts thrusting in earnest. His dick is wet with precome and the crease of my groin is still wet with his saliva and the remnants of my own come, so he slides easily there. Dean increases his pace, holding me tightly, and I can't help but mirror his moans. This shouldn't feel so good, not after I just came, but for crying out loud, it feels amazing. Deans starts thrashing in my arms, his hips stuttering and losing the rhythm. I lift my hips up and grind against him again and again until finally he stutters out a sound of surprised joy and comes with a long drawn out moan. His hips buck few more times and then he slumps on me, boneless and satisfied.

We lie like that for a long while – Dean's practically on me, getting heavier by the second, but I don't have it in me to push him off. Instead I tangle my fingers in his short strands and kiss his temple, holding him even closer.

"You need to sleep some more." I whisper as Dean finally slides off me, settling at my side, his head still on my chest.

"Don't want to." He says. "Dreams."

"I can wake you up if you start having nightmares." I offer, but he just kisses my chest and shakes his head.

"No, I really… It just feels good to lie like this, you know?"

"I do." I nod and kiss the top of his head.

"We still have couple of hours left before we can go." He mutters. "Can we just… I don't know, talk?"

"Of course. What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything. Everything. Tell me how you've been. Tell me about your friends and John and… just anything."

"Ok." I agree and resume trading my fingers through his hair. "Um… Well, Emma and Tom are great. They… They've been going out quite a lot recently and I'm kind of hopeful it'll work out. Tom's on his best behavior and Emma… I think she's starting to see him in a different light, so to say. They seem happy. They laugh more than ever since Brian's death and I think they're both trying really hard to make it work."

"It's… um… it's great." He mumbles. "I thought maybe… You know, after I stopped… I thought maybe you'd gone back together with Emma."

"It doesn't work that way, Dean."

"No?"

"No. Emma is my friend and as soon as I realized what I feel for you is more than a misplaced attraction I ended things with her. I didn't think it would matter to you at the time, but it mattered to me and it was the right thing to do. What right do I have to string her along, when I know for sure what it is I feel for you? And then… After you left and we stopped… you know… I still didn't want anyone else. Again, I didn't think it would matter to you, but it did to me. I love you, Dean, and I loved you even when I was sure you didn't. So no, it doesn't work that way, I don't just go around looking for someone else when I can't have you."

Dean pushes up on his elbow and kisses me. It's slow and thorough. There's no heat in it, instead I'm pretty sure it's gratitude and devotion.

"I was so terrified you'd forget about me." He mutters against my lips, when he finally releases me.

"I won't." I promise.

"I didn't… too… you know?"

"You didn't forget me?" I ask with a small smile.

"No." He rolls his eyes. "I didn't go out and find someone else. Just didn't want anyone who wasn't you."

I can't help a smile that spreads across my face. I'm just so happy in this quiet moment with him. I shake my head to stop the sappiness though.

"I also didn't want to give John the satisfaction of thinking he'd convinced me." I say at last.

Dean looks up at me confused.

"John? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Well, after you left I told him about us. I didn't want to lie about the whole thing anymore and really, there's nothing wrong with me loving you so I just told him… I knew it wouldn't be easy for him, but I guess I hoped… Instead, he tried to convince me to stop this… I think he used word 'proclivity'. He asked me to save myself, not to tarnish my immortal soul with these sinful desires." I smile sadly at Dean's growl. "It's his faith, Dean."

"Well, he's wrong!" He grumbles.

"For what it's worth, I believe he was trying to save me. He believes I will burn in the lake of fire for eternity for loving you and he tried to save me. I can't begrudge him for that. I'm sorry he no longer speaks to me and I miss him, but I understand him. He's chosen his faith above everything else in this world and he's pledged himself to his god – I shouldn't have expected him to react any differently."

"It's bullshit, Em! He has no right to tell you what you and I have is a sin, because it fucking isn't!"

"I know that, you don't have to convince me. But I respect him enough to leave him with his faith. It's all he has and… Well, it's just painful for me."

Dean kisses me again and I let the feeling of his lips on mine sooth me.

"Anyway," I say at last, "after all this there was no way I'd give him the satisfaction of thinking I'd cave just because he has misguided faith."

"No, I get it." He nods. "But I'm still pissed. Parents should never put their beliefs before their children."

"You know, you sound like you've been through this."

"Well… No, I suppose I haven't. Not really, anyway. But… When I was a kid, I think I was fifteen or something, I had this friend – Rob. Sam, dad and I rarely stayed in one place long enough to make friends, but that was a summer Sam broke his arm pretending to be batman. The idiot didn't know batman didn't fly and so he kind of jumped off the roof. Might've been my fault, really, because just hours before I told him I was superman and jumped off the same roof. Anyway, that's not part of the story." He laughs softly. "So, Sam, broken arm, had to stay in one place to let the kid heal. Dad was doing some research, so he'd let us stay for two whole months. And of course we made friends. Sammy had always been a settler – he got used to every place we've been in, regardless how soon we left. So of course he made loads of friends. If I'm not much mistaken, he had his first crush there. The poor kid stumbled on every word anytime that cute little girl was around. And I… Well, I was never much for friends, but there was this kid, Rob, who lived few houses down the street. I don't really know what was it about him, maybe his recklessness or maybe it was that he was unhappy, but it clicked with me and soon we were pretty much doing everything together – chasing teenage girls, stealing his dad's car to go to the movies, you know the drill. Anyway, my dad hated him. And it was not because he was such a mess or because we were constantly getting into trouble. No, he hated him, because sometimes he'd look at me for a second too long or when he bumped my shoulder laughing at something he'd let it linger. And no, under no circumstances was my father's oldest son allowed to befriend a queer, much less be one!"

He laughs bitterly and for the moment there I think he'll pull away. Instead, he tightens his hold on me.

"And the funny thing is – I don't even think it was like that. I liked the guy, sure, but I was a teenager with raging hormones – I would've freaking humped a wall if it was softer and willing!"

I can't help but laugh at that.

"A wall? Seriously?"

"Well. And anyway, Rob was my friend, but my dad made sure to point out how disgusting homos were and how he didn't raise his boys to be queens. I was careful not to look at any man for more than a few seconds after that. I don't even know if I was ever attracted to someone else, when I worked overtime to make sure I wouldn't be."

He shifts again and presses his thigh between mine.

"And it pisses me off now, because he was wrong, but I was just a kid and I didn't know it then. He was my dad and he was always right. I was a good son, I always listened to him, I always followed his lead. And it pisses me off, because if he was still alive, if he was around, he'd hate you and he'd hate me and that's just… wrong."

"You don't know it, Dean. You've changed with years, he might've too. Don't put this hate in your memory of him, because it's unfair to him and to you and it poisons your memories of that man. He might've been wrong and he might've made a mistake then, but doesn't mean he'd do it again."

"I… Yeah, I suppose you're right. He did change a lot by the end, so maybe…" He nods at last and for a long time we just lie there silently, listening to each other's breathing. Eventually, Dean chuckles. "You know – the pillow talk with you just gets more and more intense every time."

"Hey, you started it." I grumble, but I can't help laughing.

"And I'll end it. Come on, it's almost time for us to go and we're all sticky and gross and you still haven't fucked me."

"Dean!" I splutter.

"What? I've been thinking about it ever since we had phone sex that night, remember? So get up, get your butt in the shower and… you know… fuck me."

I jump off the bed and drag him with me at once.

"Just for the record," I tell him leading him to the bathroom, "I still don't fuck."

He doesn't skip a beat as he grins broadly and wraps his arms around me. "Make love to me then? Have sex with me? Put your dick in me?"

"Jesus, Dean…" I laugh and then whimper as he bites into my shoulder.

"Do me? Have me? Own me?" He continues between laughing and kissing my neck.

I turn around, grab his hips and push him inside the bathroom. "How about all of the above?" I growl seizing the back of his head and kissing him roughly. I can feel him nod as he moans into my mouth and for the longest time after none of us can say anything else except each other's names, soft curses and pleas for more.

 

We don't talk much on our way to the hospital. We have already said all that was needed and now I just have to make sure Sam gets better. Dean gets tenser with each second and each mile closer to the mental facility he's driving us to. By the time he stops, he's coiled tight, his body rigid, face stony. I know that if I tried to speak to him now, he'd shut me out, so I just don't. As soon as we stop he bolts out of the car and I hurry to keep up. I shouldn't have worried though, because as soon as we're at the door he stops and catches me by the wrist.

"I'm sorry." He mutters. "I really am trying. It's just… Sam getting hurt is the one thing I can't shake off."

I don't think I ever felt guiltier than at this particular moment. My heart flips over itself and I drop my eyes.

"Please don't ever apologize again." I ask. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, much less your kindness."

"Em…"

"Please, let's just not… There's nothing else we can say to make this better. Let me just help Sam and then we'll go from there, ok?"

He nods, presses his forehead against mine for a second and then finally pulls away and enters the hospital.

I don't have much experience with hospitals, other than my brief stint there after John found me, but I think this one is quite alright. I've never been to mental hospital of course, so I can't judge, but even though there's this haunted feeling that I think everyone associates with mental facilities here, it's still bright and quiet. Then again it's still very early. Dean walks to the register and asks to see Sam. I can see that the nurse there is reluctant to let him in – it is 7 am after all, but Dean is hard to resist. It's not only I who can't seem to say no to him – when he wants to he really can be very persistent. In the end she agrees to let us in, mostly because Sam's obviously not sleeping.

When we enter his room, we find Sam sitting on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around them. He doesn't acknowledge us, doesn't react at all. He's staring blankly at something in front of him and he's rocking slightly back and forth. From time to time he flinches as if he's startled.

"Sammy…" Dean mutters sitting down next to him. "Sam, can you hear me?"

"He stopped responding around 2 am." The nurse says softly. "He just hums and rocks. I have never seen anything like that. It's similar to being catatonic, except that he seems to be responsive to stimuli that are not there. Severe autism looks similar, but one can't simply become autistic all of the sudden. And still, none of this explains why he can't sleep or even less so – why can't the drugs knock him out."

"Can you…" Dean croaks and then pulls himself together. "Can you leave us with him for a moment?"

Nurse looks at him sympathetically and then throws a glance my way. "Try speaking to him, just not too loud. He seems to like it."

"Yeah…" Dean nods. "Thanks."

She smiles at him once again and leaves with a soft click of the doors closing behind her.

I have expected it to be bad, but I now have to admit I never expected it to be this bad. I approach them carefully, more than ready for Dean to get defensive again. He doesn't though, he just sits beside Sam.

"I'm going to try helping you, Sam." I tell him, even though I don't think he can really hear me now. He doesn't react so I step around his bed and sit on the opposite side of it. I take a deep breath and brace myself to the unavoidable onslaught of foreign pain. Finally, I stretch out my hand and place it carefully on top of Sam's.

I can't describe it in words, this agony I now share with Sam. Its malevolence, its ugliness makes me think of evil, of sin and inexplicably of hell. Pain, very much like fire, is pure. What I feel now, what Sam's been feeling for weeks now, is anything but. It's ugly and wicked and malicious and most of all – it's unclean. I don't know what I've unleashed on Sam, but whatever it is – it has intent. I suspected as much the first time I touched him, but it has never been clearer than in this moment that it's evil not in the sense of concept, but in the sense of presence. It's everywhere. It consumes Sam, scorches and desecrates him and I can't even feel the source of it. It's not Sam, not really, but the being is so deep in him, there's so much of it there that I just can't focus on something to push. I concentrate though, search for it, look for the source or even the trace of it, but this pain that's not really pain makes it hard to breathe, to concentrate, to feel. I push at every direction, look for it, or maybe look for Sam in all that misery, but the more I push, the more I get pushed. It ignites me though, so I concentrate on the fire in me, instead of the pain around me. My fire is pure and for the first time ever I embrace it. It helps me concentrate, focuses my wondering mind and helps me direct my efforts. So I push and push, but the more I do so, the hotter the fire blazes. I pull back a little, but then I'm overwhelmed by the renewed pain and sorrow in Sam. I try once again, embracing the fire and pushing the evil presence away. I feel it give, just a little, but at the same time the burning in the pit of my stomach intensifies to the scorching levels and I can't hold back a whimper. I don't stop though, I push harder and harder, and it gets hotter and hotter, to the point that I'm pretty sure that even if I stop now, I won't be able to hold it in me anymore. No! No, no, no! Not like this, I have to tell him! I have to say good bye! I pull away with all I have in me, but I was right, I'm too late and I can't stop this, I can't hold him in me anymore.

"Dean…" I mumble with the last bits of my strength and turn to him. I have yet to open my eyes, but it's so hard, so hard to concentrate on anything except this blazing agony in me. "Dean…" I try again and at last I open my eyes. For the moment there I think he can see the fire in me, I think he can see it burning in my eyes, because he gasps and grabs my hands.

"I can't, I can't…" I mutter and try with all my will to get it out before it's too late. "I can't help him, but maybe he can. Maybe he can… I can't stop him, not anymore. I'm so sorry, Dean… I'm sorry, I love you… I'm sorry…"

I surge forward and kiss him one last time. And I'm just so happy, so incredibly happy it's him I cling to in this last moment of love and life, this moment my every choice and every turn was leading to, because this is the moment I cease to exist, this is the moment I die.


	19. Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an extensive author's note at the end of this, which you can freely skip. I just put some thoughts on what made this story to be what it is.
> 
> I leave you with the last chapter for now - enjoy! L.

All things considered, Dean should probably be glad he had his fair share of run-ins with grace, or he’d be sporting two fresh holes where his eyes should’ve been. Instead, he instinctively let go of his friend and threw himself over Sam, shielding both of their eyes. Even so, he could still see the room white out with the surge of it and then had to blink blue spots out of his vision. When his vision finally cleared, he checked on Sam. His brother was still sitting, staring into open space in front of him as if nothing had happened. He was somewhere else, unreachable to Dean, and for the first time ever, Dean was glad Sam wouldn’t witness this. He took a deep breath and turned back to see his friend standing in the furthest corner of the room. Even stunned and terrified as it was, his mind couldn’t stop cataloguing all the differences this little surge of light caused in the man in front of him. He stood rigid, motionless, his shoulders slumped, one arm wrapped defensively around his middle, other hand shielding his own eyes. 

“Cas?” Dean tried cautiously, barely above whisper. Still, it caused the other man to flinch even further back. Dean tried again. “Cas, is that… Are you…”

Finally, the other man lifted his head, meeting Dean’s eyes. The hunter sucked in a breath as if punched in the gut. The difference between even guilt ridden expression of Emmanuel and devastated, haunted expression of the man in front of him was beyond words. Dean’s mind supplied helpfully that this was the exact same expression his friend wore when he asked Dean to stand with him before opening purgatory. He’d forgotten. With Emmanuel’s easy smiles and affection, he’d forgotten that this is exactly how Castiel had looked all that year, ever since coming back from heaven. Now, more than ever, Dean couldn’t understand how could he have not seen it. How could he have let him fight that war alone if this is exactly how Castiel looked at him all that time? Terrified, guilty, alone…

As if in trance, Dean stood up and walked around Sam’s bed, stopping right in front of his friend. His expression shifted from scared and guilty to resigned, as if he expected Dean to lash out and attack and he’d already accepted it. He lowered his arms, not planning to defend, but rather readying himself for inevitable attack.

“Dean.” He muttered softly, as if giving permission, accepting.

“Jesus, Cas…” Dean whimpered and threw himself at his friend, wrapping him in a tight hug. Castiel flinched at first, freezing entirely, until he realized he was not being attacked. Finally, he let himself react and a moment later he had his arms around Dean.

“Dean…” He muttered again, just like before, and suddenly Dean realized that Cas had always said his name like a caress, he simply couldn’t hear it before. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Dean… I’m s…”

But Dean pulled back at that and covered the angel’s mouth with his hand, silencing him.

“No.” He shook his head. “No, you don’t get to say sorry. You get to make it ok, you hear me? You get to fix it and then we’ll move on.”

Castiel stared at his friend, eyes huge and unhappy. Guilty, more than anything, haunted. Dean forced on.

“I will never forgive you, Cas. Not for what you did to Sammy. I will never forgive you hurting him.”

At this Castiel dropped his gaze and nodded. He took a step back, distancing himself from Dean.

“I understand.” He muttered, not meeting his eyes. He folded his arms around his middle defensively again, steeling himself up for the loss. “Of course.”

“No, you don’t.” Dean shook his head and stepped closer to him again. “I will never forgive you for Sammy, but I will move past this. You fix him and we’ll all move past this.”

“I don’t… Are you telling me to fix him and go away? I will, Dean. I promised and I will.”

“No, that’s not what I'm saying. I’m asking you to fix him and stay.”

“I don’t understand.” The angel said slowly. 

“What is there not to get? I’m asking you to stay.”

“But… Why? I’m irredeemable. The magnitude of my sins is beyond understanding. I will never be able to atone for what I’ve done and I will always be broken. My grace will eventually fade and I won’t even be able to help you anymore. Why would you want something like that to stay?”

“Because you’re not something, dammit.” Dean frowned. “I may not be able to forgive you, but I damn well can move past this. I understand why you did all of it, Cas. It was shitty and horrible and you shouldn’t have, but I get it. You were trying to do the right thing all along. And it may not seem much to you, but Jesus, you were the only one to ever try doing the right thing! And for what it’s worth, I believe you were going to fix him.”

“It doesn’t make it alright.”

“It sure as fuck doesn’t!” Dean nodded. “But it’s something.”

“I was.” Castiel said after a long pause. “Going to fix him. When I broke the wall, I swore to myself even if it was the last thing I did, I’d fix him. I don’t… remember much with souls, but I think I wanted to still? I don’t know why I didn’t, because I remember pushing them for it, coaxing them to do it.”

“You tried.” Dean said. “But Sam refused. He didn’t want your help and he… He thought he’d handle it. He’s stupid and stubborn this way.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. So fix him and we’ll move past this.”

Castiel looked at Dean for a while longer.

“I meant what I said, Dean. Even if my brothers won’t find me, which they probably will, my grace will fade. I’ll just be a liability to you. A baby in a trench coat. Which I no longer have.”

“You’re not a liability. Fuck, you really think it’s all there is? Don’t you remember these last few months?”

“I… I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to remember them.” Castiel said dropping his gaze again.

“Dude, I wasn’t the one with a memory loss. I knew who you were from the very beginning, even if I tried to tell myself it wasn’t possible at first.”

“It’s different now. I’m not human anymore, not that I ever was.”

“Yeah, but Cas – I knew it all along.”

“But then I don’t… Why? I mean I just don’t understand… Why did you come back? It doesn’t make any sense. If you knew and… I never said anything… and you never…”

“Cas, you’re babbling.” Dean said taking steadying breath. “Look, this is really not the time for this and there’s loads we need to actually talk about, but not right now, with Sam sitting right here. I know he doesn’t really hear us now, but I can’t go into it with you while he’s here, ok? So, how about this – why don’t you just accept that I knew who you were and that I still wanted you?” Dean said and stepped even closer, right into Cas’ space. “Now I know it’s not fair to hold you to the promises you made then, but you promised not to regret it. Do you?”

Castiel met his eyes and stared at the hunter for a moment longer. The uncertainty he saw there startled him. “But don’t you know?”

“Don’t I know what?” Dean asked impatiently.

“Profound bond, Dean. I always wanted you.”

Dean exhaled and surged forward, sealing his lips to the angel’s, his fists curling in his t-shirt, pulling him closer still.

“Fix him, then.” Dean said when he finally let go. “Fix him and then help us get rid of that fucking leviathan. You’re not a baby in a trench coat, even when you no longer have grace. You didn’t have grace when you fought Pestilence, but you fought him anyway. And just so you know – you still have it.”

“My grace?” Cas asked confused. It was difficult to focus with Dean standing so close to him.

Dean rolled his fondly eyes and kissed him again. “No, your coat.”

“Oh?”

“I… kind of fished it out. You know, from the reservoir, after you walked into it… And by the way – don’t you ever do that again!”

“I… No, I’d rather not. As I said, I don’t remember much, but the bits I do remember were…” The angel shuddered bodily. “I don’t ever want to do it again.”

“Good.” Dean nodded, reached out and seized Cas by the back of his neck, pulling him closer and then kissing him. “Now, can we stow this heart to heart and focus on Sam?”

“Of course.” Castiel nodded at once and stepped around Dean to get to Sam. He placed a careful hand on Sam shoulder and reached for his temple. Dean watched as Cas went stock still as soon as his fingers touched Sam’s temple. Where Sam was shuddering and flinching, Cas was still and rigid, his face blank, void of any emotions. Dean didn’t know how long it took, how long Cas stood there, but eventually, he saw his brother’s eyelids flutter and close. Castiel eased him back on the bed, covering him with the blanket carefully, almost reverently. 

“Is he…?” Dean tried to ask, failing to find the words that’d convey his hope.

Castiel turned to look at him and Dean caught a glimpse of regret on the angel’s face.

“He’s asleep.” Castiel said. “But he’s not fixed, not yet.”

“What? Why?” Dean bristled and couldn’t help but look at Castiel accusingly. “You said you can fix him.”

“I will.” Cas nodded solemnly as if making a vow. “I will keep my promise.”

“Then why don’t you do it now?”

“I need some help.” He said. “He’s further than I expected and I need some help to reach him. While I do that, he’ll rest. I can do that much for him now – he’s no longer in pain.”

“But… I don’t get it. Why can’t you just fix him?”

“Dean… His soul is… It’s tattered, raw… I need to stitch it together, you see? I can’t just build a wall again, because sooner or later it’ll go down and… I might not be able to help him then. So I need to do it right, I need permanent solution. But for that I need to take care of some things first.”

Dean had always been single minded when it came to Sam, especially to Sam being hurt, so it was really hard to concentrate on Cas as he explained this. He did, however, know the angel enough to notice his small tells. Cas didn’t stare at him, instead his gaze flickered back and forth between brothers.

“What are you not telling me?” Dean asked carefully, his guts twisting into a tight knot at the uncomfortable reminder of his friend’s betrayal.

“I’m not…” Castiel started, but Dean didn’t have any patience for lies, not anymore.

“So you’ve been back for 5 goddamn minutes and you’re lying to me again!”

“Dean…” The angel breathed, his face sad and apologetic. 

“Don’t you Dean me! What the hell is happening? If you can’t fix him, you better not lie to me again!”

“I’m not.” Castiel said firmly and in this Dean saw no traces of lies. “I will fix Sam.”

“Then what’s wrong? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s not important. What is important is that I have to go for a little while. I need to make some arrangements to help Sam.”

“What arrangements?”

“It’s details, Dean, it’s not important. Listen, I’ll come back in an hour, two at most. Will you sit with him while I’m gone? He won’t wake up, but you should still sit with him, just in case.”

“Where are you going, Cas?” Dean asked slowly, refusing to be derailed.

“I don’t want to lie to you, so I’ll just tell you straight – I have to do something that I don’t want to tell you about. It’s nothing bad and I’m not going to hurt anyone, I just have to take care of few things before helping Sam. Please, Dean, don’t make me lie.”

Dean looked at him for a few moments longer then sighed.

“Will you at least tell me later?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Is it dangerous?” He asked again.

“No.”

“Ok.” The hunter nodded at last. “I hate lies and I hate secrets, but if you… I can’t force you so… Ok.”

“Thank you, Dean.” The angel held his eyes for few long seconds as if memorizing him and then with the rustle of wings disappeared.

“Dammit…” Dean cursed under his breath and sat back next to his now peacefully sleeping brother.

 

 

“Clarence, now that’s what I call a surprise!” Meg giggled stepping out of the circle of sigils Castiel used to summon her. “Although I gotta say – you don’t look much like you. Any version of you, really. So what are you now? Because the last I’ve heard you were trying to be god.”

“I’m not god.” The angel said firmly.

“No… No, you’re really not.” She agreed watching him thoughtfully. “Not human either. Are you saying you’re boring old Clarence again?”

“If by that you mean an angel, then yes.” He agreed.

“Ah, ah, ah… Now what, pray tell, would an angel want from a filthy old me?” Meg purred stepping slowly around Castiel, her hand sliding from his chest to his back as she circled him.

“A favor. I need a favor.”

“An angel needs my favor? I’m sure there’s a joke somewhere there.” She laughed although Castiel didn’t see anything particularly funny. If anything having to stoop so low as to ask for demon’s favor, especially after Crowley’s fiasco, was anything but funny. “And why,” she rumbled on into his ear, “would I want to help you?”

“Because I will owe you one in return.”

“Elaborate, angel.”

“I need your help. It won’t cost you anything and it’ll barely put you in any danger. Not in more danger than you already are in being on a run from Crowley anyway. You will barely even have to do anything. And in return, you will have an angel in your debt. I will owe you a favor.”

“Any favor?” She asked, eyes glinting dangerously.

“Within reason.” Castiel nodded. “Nothing to do with Winchesters and I don’t kill innocents. Other than that – pretty much any favor.”

“You don’t kill innocents?” She threw her head back and laughed. “You, angel, in one measly spree have killed more innocents than all demons combined!”

Castiel flinched at that and dropped his eyes.

“Anymore. I won’t kill them anymore.” He muttered.

“Not that I’d ever need you to. Smiting is not nearly as fun as cutting into them, clawing at their insides while they wail and beg and…”

“Enough.” Castiel cut her off glaring at her. “I’m not interested in your filth. It’s a favor I need.”

“Word to the wise, Clarence, if you want something from me – don’t piss me off!” She yelled, anger distorting her features. But as abrupt as it had been, it subsided just as quickly and she smiled again. “So no innocents and no Winchesters. Not that I’d ever be dumb enough to sic you on your boyfriend – you’ve got a soft spot the size of Texas for that special cupcake.”

Castiel watched her steadily, expressionless as ever. “Do you have a point with this?”

“Just thinking out loud.” She mused. “So what is it you want from me then?”

“Your time.” He said simply. “Do we have an agreement?”

“Spoken like a true demon!” She laughed. “Vague and yet to the point.”

“What is your answer, Meg? Will you help me?”

“How do I know you won’t trick me? After all, you screwed Crowley over spectacularly. Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“I’ll give you my word – that’s the most I can do. I’m not bound by deals, you know that very well. But I will keep my promise, Meg. You will have me in your debt.”

“That’s not the only way I’d like to have you, angel.” She purred again and wrapped her arms around Castiel’s neck. “Let’s kiss on it then.”

“It’s not a demon deal, we don’t have to.” Castiel frowned.

“Who’s talking about having to?” Meg laughed again and then kissed the angel. Castiel stood there motionless, not pushing her away, but not reacting in any way either. He wondered briefly how he could ever think kissing her was pleasurable. Now that he had all these memories of Dean’s kisses, nothing could ever compare. Eventually, Meg got it as well. She let him go and sighed.

“Somebody spoiled you, Clarence. You used to be so good… Oh well, can’t blame the girl for trying. At least I feel clean.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. You taste of sulfur.” Castiel said flatly.

“Hello, I’m demon.” She laughed. “Alright, Clarence, tell me what the hell can an angel want from me.”

Castiel looked at her for a moment longer and then started to speak.

 

 

“Dean.” Castiel muttered reappearing right by Dean’s side in the hospital room a while later. The hunter jumped startled and then cursed under his breath.

“Seriously, Cas! How many times do I have to tell you – you don’t sneak up to people like that.”

“I apologize.” He said without stepping back out of Dean’s personal space. “I was in a hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He sighed and narrowed his eyes observing the angel. “Is everything alright? Did you do whatever the hell it was you had to do?”

Castiel didn’t meet Dean’s eyes, instead opting to look at his brother.

“Yes, I’m ready.” He said silently. “I just… There’s something I want to tell you, Dean.”

Dean took the angel by his arm and cupped his face with the other hand, forcing him to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Castiel said firmly, but by now Dean knew him well enough to know he’s lying.

“What the hell, dude?” He hissed, but Cas silenced him with a short kiss.

“Let me tell you this.” He pleaded. “I need to tell you this.”

“What is it, Cas? What’s happening?”

“It’s not… Listen to me, Dean, I need you to understand some things.” The angel took a deep, unnecessary breath and locked his eyes to Dean’s. “When I first saw you, down there, in Hell, I knew you were significant.”

“Jesus, Cas! Why are we talking about that? I don’t… You fucking know I hate remembering that time…”

“I know, but you have to let me explain.”

“Can’t it wait? Why don’t you just fix Sammy and we can talk all you want.”

“No, it has to be now.” The angel shook his head. “Please, Dean, let me tell you.”

“I don’t… Jesus freaking...” He sighed heavily and then leaned against the wall resignedly. “Fine, talk.”

“Thank you.” The angel gave him his barely there smile and leaned in back to his personal space, as if it was exactly where he belonged before continuing. “I waited for Alistair to leave your side for just a moment so I could take you away and I watched you carve into a soul, guided by his foul touch. It shouldn’t have fazed me – believe me, in my endless existence I’ve seen things that were truly awful and horrifying so the mere sight of a demon leading a soul to damnation shouldn’t have fazed me. And yet it did. It did, because despite the time you spent in Alistair’s vicious care, your soul… rippled. You dug your blade into that sinner’s soul, but it was your soul that bore the torture. I have never seen anything more heartbreaking in my entire existence.”

“Cas…” Dean whimpered unable to listen, to bear the weight of angel’s gaze on him.

“I was honored to save you.” Castiel continued wistfully. “I was in awe of you and I was honored to be the one to save a Righteous Man. I wish I knew back then who you are, I wish I knew I was not simply saving a righteous man, because it pales in comparison to the true meaning of your saving. I saved Dean Winchester and that is… That is truly significant.”

Castiel smiled at Dean then, soft if somewhat sad smile and cupped his jaw, caressing his face with his thumb.

“I didn’t know who you were, Dean, I was merely following orders. It took me some time to realize that you’re not a tool to be used in our games and prophecies and I’m not proud of those first days on Earth. But even then I could feel you were more… I don’t know how to explain precisely, but from the very start you were significant to me. And as I got to know you, with every decision and ever defiant choice you made, I admired you more and more. 

I don’t know when it was that I finally realized I loved you. I like to think that I started falling for you from that very first sight in Hell, and maybe I did, but I just couldn’t grasp it then. I knew for sure when I first disobeyed my orders. Ever since… Nothing that I did was ever because I had to – it was always because I chose to. You, more than anyone else, know how poor some of my choices were, but I had always had you in my mind with every decision and every choice. You and I have very different set of values ingrained in us, but one thing we do have in common – protect your family at all costs. To me – you’re family. I would do anything for you and I don’t regret anything I had done, because I truly believe it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Dean frowned at that, but he didn’t try to shake off Castiel’s hands.

“I regret hurting Sam.” Cas said as if reading Dean’s mind. “I wasn’t thinking clearly at that time – I was scared and desperate and I acted on impulse rather than a thought out plan. I regret the pain I caused him and I regret the lives I took as a false god. But if I had to do it again, if doing it all again meant I get to keep you safe – I’d do it. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Cas!”

“I just want you to understand who… Or maybe I should say ‘what’ I am. I’m flawed and reckless and prideful. I carry so many sins, so many faults… You deserve so much better, Dean, so much so I can’t even tell you. But I do love you. Be what I may, I love you, Dean and I think I always will.”

“It’s bullshit, Cas!” Dean growled wrapping his arm around Castiel’s waist and pulling him closer still. “The whole ‘I don’t deserve you’ part is fucking bullshit. What does it even mean – deserving someone? I always thought I didn’t deserve you. I thought I was just some insolent idiot who just wouldn’t leave you alone. But that’s not what this is about, Cas. It was never about deserving someone. I want you. I want you to stay with me and I will do pretty much anything to keep you.”

For the briefest moment Castiel wondered if maybe Dean could read him too, maybe he was giving on too much. He couldn’t let this happen so he surged forwards and kissed him for all its worth. He kissed him until Dean was dizzy and weak in the knees; kissed him until for that moment in time nothing else mattered. When he finally pulled back, Dean swayed a little.

“I love you, Dean.” Castiel said again. “And you’re probably right; it’s not really about deserving someone. But what I am trying to tell you is not even about that. I just need you to understand, I need you to know.”

“What? What are you trying to tell me?” Dean asked trying to pull himself together. The inkling that something was wrong was getting stronger with ever sad smile and every solemn ‘I love you’.

“That you are my reason. That I love you and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. There is no limit for what I’d do and there is no one I wouldn’t step over to keep you safe, even if it is me I’d be saving you from. I will never hurt you again.” This last was said with such fierce determination that Dean simply gaped at him. They should be comforting, the promises the angel was making, but somehow they felt more like a goodbye than anything else.

Castiel took a deep breath and once again caressed the side of Dean’s face. “You will never hurt for me, I promise.” He breathed and Dean’s mind whirled with hundreds of confused and terrified questions, but before he could ask any of them, before he could form a decent thought, the angel’s fingers crept to his temple.

“Forget.” Castiel breathed and suddenly all the fears and all the questions no longer mattered, because with that one word and gentle touch the entire story of Emmanuel twirled, twisted and ceased to exist as Dean did just what his now heartbroken angel ordered – he forgot.

 

 

“Can you believe it? Fucking Daphne!” Dean growled watching the mental hospital fade in the rearview mirror of his departing Impala.

“Let it go, Dean.” Sam said tiredly. “He didn’t remember anything.”

“Yeah, I know, but who the hell marries a guy with no memories?”

“Apparently Daphne does.” He mumbled and turned to look back. “Do you think he’s going to be ok?”

“I don’t… Fuck if I know, Sammy. But what choice did we have? Carry the comatose dude with us from motel to motel?”

“I just don’t like the thought of leaving him with Meg, you know?”

“You and me both. But… Fuck, I’m just so glad I found him, you know? Emmanuel, can you imagine? If Bobby didn’t throw me a hint, I’d never have found him and then – dammit Sammy, it was just too close. Don’t ever do that again!”

“Trust me – I really don’t want to do that ever again.” Sam hissed still watching the road. “It just that I… I just feel so sorry for him, you know? And I shouldn’t – he did it himself! But at the same time I just do!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. The poor bastard really did a number on us all, himself included. I wish… Fuck it, I just wish he got better.”

“Meg said he would.”

“Yeah, but what does she know?” Dean muttered not expecting an answer and not getting one. They sat in this silence, each in their own thoughts until they hit the main road leaving Lawrence behind them.

“But seriously – fucking Daphne!” Dean growled trying to wrap his head around this unexpected hollow ache in his chest at the thought of his friend ever being with someone. It just felt all sorts of wrong. “Jesus fucking… Emmanuel.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's been quite a ride for me with this story. It's the second I've ever started and the longest I've ever written. To tell you the secret - if stories were babies, I'd be a horrible parent, because this one is definitely my favorite. Be as it may, I have a special place in my heart for my Emmanuel story.
> 
> I'll let you in on one more little secret - the inspiration for this story actually came to me in the form of the last few lines of the previous chapter. I always new that Emmanuel has an end date - he had to die for Castiel to return. It was inevitable and I always had this image in my head how Em would kiss Dean on those last moments and be happy about dying with his friend in sight. I'm really sorry to all of you who I may have disappointed with almost major character death in this story, but it was always going to be the end of Em to get Cas back, I just made it seem like dying, because that's exactly how it would've felt for Em.
> 
> When I started this story, I didn't yet know if I wanted to write Castiel. I thought I might just leave it at Emmanuel dying, but ultimately it didn't feel as a satisfying end to this story. Hence the last chapter. I mentioned before, this is going to be canon compliant and to me Emmanuel's story is what could've been in season 7. We didn't get to know Em all that much in canon - 1 measly episode didn't do him justice, so I seized the chance to explore what could've been. At the same time I wanted the rest of SPN make sense, so Cas following Dean's footsteps and doing exactly what Dean had done to protect his loved ones - Lisa and Ben - seemed poetic to me. Cas always takes his cues from the Winchesters, don't you think?
> 
> So again, I'm sorry to those I have disappointed and I still hope you all have enjoyed the ride. As I said, this story means a lot to me, so please, do tell me what you think of it now that it's done.
> 
> Also, my special thanks to Mistofstars for creating a cover image for this story and for cheering me up when I was down. You're amazing and I hope I didn't disappoint you too much!
> 
> To all - thank you for reading, thank you for liking and hating it, it's been a pleasure.
> 
> L.
> 
> p.s. just an afterthought - SPN keeps trying to screw with me. I can't get out of my head that now that Dean was/is/could be a demon, he'd remember whatever Cas made him forget, wouldn't he? Geez, I just finished it and my head is already plotting a sequel... No promises though, I need to get some rest from this, but it's possible I'll get back to these guys once again.
> 
> And the last thing - to those who got really upset - I have stories with happy endings too, you might like them better ;)
> 
> Thanks again, L.


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